


And in the Darkness, Bind Them

by CeliPuff, Ketch22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Murder, Biting, Blood, Blood As Lube, Blood Kink, Bondage, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Breathplay, Butt Plugs, Captivity, Castiel Wears Panties (Supernatural), Choking, Church Sex, Come Eating, Come Marking, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Control, Dark, Dark Past, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dean Winchester Hears Voices, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominant Masochism, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Don't Judge Me, Don't Read This, Don't Try This At Home, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Gang Rape, Gore, Heavy Angst, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jealous Castiel (Supernatural), Jealous Dean Winchester, Kidnapping, Loss of Control, M/M, Masochism, Multi, Murder, Murder Husbands, Murder Kink, No Aftercare, No Lube, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panty Kink, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Castiel (Supernatural), Possessive Dean Winchester, Prostitute Castiel (Supernatural), Prostitution, Psychological Trauma, Rape Fantasy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Rough Sex, Sadism, Safeword Use, Semi-Public Sex, Serial Killer Castiel (Supernatural), Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Serial Killer Husbands, Sex Toys, Spanking, Stalking, Starvation, Subdrop, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Torture, Undiagnosed Schizophrenia, Violence, gagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 70,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22740622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeliPuff/pseuds/CeliPuff, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ketch22/pseuds/Ketch22
Summary: After witnessing the murders of his parents, something inside of Dean Winchester snapped. He grew up on the streets, starving and stealing to survive. But when the only company you keep are the voices in your head, finding your next meal becomes less important than finding your next victim.Castiel Novak was shunned by a religious family for not fitting into their mold. He learned early on that sex pays the bills and pain gets him off, so combining those two was an obvious choice, until he was unknowingly marked for death by the most captivating stranger he’d ever met.Will they bring each other a level of peace neither had ever known, or will they drag each other deeper into the dark?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 408
Kudos: 304
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *This fic is what happens when two people mesh the darkest parts of their minds and push the other further into the abyss. Do not read if you are triggered by any of the tags above, just turn away now and find a tamer fic to satisfy your craving for darkness, because darkness gets our dicks hard.

Dean Winchester had been on the streets for as long as he could remember. No one gave a shit that his parents died right in front of him; no one noticed the small boy in the corner too scared to even cry when they came to drag the bodies out. He was 7 when it happened. He died in that room too, although he was the only one that knew it. Something inside of him snapped that day, snapped so fucking thoroughly that nothing would ever fix it. Well, nothing but blood, anyway.

The only time the voices stopped was when his hands were drenched in perfect crimson. It didn’t matter if it was before, during or after the moment when his latest victim finally lost their will to keep fighting, blood was blood. Power... was power. He lived for the moment he broke someone the way he was once broken. He got off on it. He needed that moment to _breathe._

He didn’t care who he killed. His father had taught him enough about the overlays between hunting and law enforcement in his first few formative years that Dean was an expert at not only choosing victims that wouldn’t be missed, but covering his tracks so thoroughly that if he waited long enough, not even _he_ would remember he’d done it.

The one thing he didn’t learn from his dearly departed father, however, was his uncontrollable urge to play with his food. The only thing nearly as good as being the force that drove the light from someone’s eyes was sex, and when he combined the two... it was his own personal Hell on earth. The joke was on the Sunday school teachers Dean never had though, he liked the fire. He thrived in the chaos and misery and screaming. _The sounds,_ god how he loved the sounds his victims made. His cock could harden in an instant just thinking about the desperate little whimpers and pleas that he was all too capable of drawing out of them not once but twice. The thought of watching his come leak down the thighs of a man whose throat had just been slit was one of the only things that helped him get out of bed in the morning.

Yes, part of Dean Winchester died when he was 7 years old. Too bad it happened to be the only part of him with any shred of humanity. But the world would know soon enough, he was bound to slip up at some point and he’d be forced to face the families of the countless men and women he’d already taken from this world. But that day wasn’t going to be today. 

His eyes traveled across the bar and fixated on a young woman sitting by herself. He’d been stalking her for two weeks now, and she was _always_ alone. The only time he’d allowed himself to speak to her he’d found out she’d just moved to Lawrence, Kansas, and her family was still back east. She had no friends, she worked from home... _this_ was about as easy of a target as Dean had ever found. He preferred men, but... she would have to do. He slid off the barstool and caught her gaze. He could tell she recognized him by the way her lips turned up in a smile, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d sound prettier gagging on his cock, or on her own blood. Guess he’d just have to find out. He motioned for her to join him outside after making sure no one else would see the movement. She hesitated for a moment, but a quick sweep of her eyes over his broad shoulders and chiseled jaw had her asking the bartender to close her tab. He was out waiting by his car when she finally came out.

He’d noticed the security camera when he pulled in and had made a point to park on its other side. No one would see her get in, the cameras would catch nothing. No one noticed either of them leaving. They exchanged a few casual pleasantries when she’d walked willingly into his trap, but he cut her words off quickly with a kiss that would make an _angel_ fall from Heaven. It didn’t take much longer to get her into his car, and that was the last anyone would see of her until they discovered her body over 100 miles away two weeks later.

Turned out, the answer to his question about her was simple: she sounded better gagging on _both._

Dean drove through a couple of states with his hand out the window and the speakers of his 1967 Chevy Impala blaring Led Zeppelin. He was free, he was crazy, he was a monster. And he loved it.

Castiel didn’t have family. Well, technically that isn’t true, he had a family. A very religious family that disowned him after he was fucked by his high school math teacher for an _A._ It wasn’t his first time, definitely not his last but it was the time they were caught.

By 17 he was on the streets. Even his six brothers and sisters hated their _gay_ brother, but church did that to people. Cas quickly found someone to stay with, yeah he was older and slightly abusive, but he fed him and kept him off the streets and after while, Cas couldn’t get off without a _little_ violence.

He got his first job at a gay club when he was nineteen. He lied about his age of course but fucked his way out of that problem too. It seemed to always make problems go away, _fucking._ So, why not use that? It felt good and he got what he wanted, and pretty soon, he didn’t need any mundane job. Blowjobs paid his studio apartment’s rent. Fucking paid for his food.

Every so often, a passing thought would cross his mind. He would realize how wrong this is, how dangerous. But he always used protection... okay not _always._ Not when it wasn’t for money. When he was picked up by a random hot guy and fucked in their car for the hell of it, he’d forget sometimes. But he’d always make his way to Planned Parenthood soon after and so far, he’s only caught the curable ones. He thinks it’s worked out in his favor.

It had been a few weeks since Cas fucked someone he _wanted_ to fuck. Yeah, he’d fucked or sucked almost every day to survive but that was different. Cas wanted some _fun._

Dean pulled into a busy city in South Dakota and went to work, securing himself a no-questions-asked cash only motel room and scoping out the surrounding area. He looked for bars, clubs, anything that would have the kinds of people he was looking for with minimal security. He clocked a couple of places and then kept driving. Motel rooms weren’t always the best place for the kinds of murders Dean committed - the walls were too thin and the stains were too hard to remove from the carpet. He preferred secluded warehouses or old churches. _Especially_ old churches. Something about sending up a big fuck you to god by sodomizing and then brutally killing one of his little sheep in _His_ house seemed like poetic fucking justice for what that asshole had let happen to his parents. Let him watch. Hell, maybe god was just as fucked up as he was. Maybe he got off on it too. It happened that he was in luck - he found both a warehouse and a church that looked like they’d serve him nicely. If he played his cards right, he could stick around here for a couple of months. No more than a handful of victims, but he also wasn’t above keeping one to play with for awhile if they could stand the constant bloodletting. After being satisfied that he found the right hunting grounds and stage for his own personal grand finales, he stopped at a perfectly normal diner and had a perfectly normal meal. He sat in silence, picking at his French fries as he imagined his little twink of a waiter hanging from his ceiling with blood dripping from his wrists, his ass at the perfect height for Dean to be able to use him while licking the blood right from his skin. He wouldn’t, though, not with this one. This one would be missed. He’d have to wait until he found someone else that would look just as pretty all strung up for him like an offering.

His dick hardened under the table and he dug his palm into the head until it passed. He finished eating and paid, tipping the lucky little twink before getting back in his car and heading to the first bar on his list. He walked in and sat down, avoiding eye contact with the bartender as he ordered a whiskey and scanned the crowd for his next conquest.

Cas walked in the bar dressed in his nicest tight jeans, a Zeppelin tee and a black leather jacket. He considered dressing like a twink and letting the first hot guy take him out back and fuck his prepped hole, but he wanted something different tonight. Something he hadn’t gotten in a while. He wanted to be taken and fucked so hard he forgot his name as a big palm choked him until he came so hard he saw stars. He wanted whoever picked him up to look at his outfit and _think_ this was going to be hard. He wanted them to feel as though they had to work to fuck him and when you dress like a twink well, you might as well bend over the first table and let anyone have a go.

Cas spotted a man in a red flannel across the bar and couldn’t help but wonder what was in his jeans. He felt a thrill at the thought of _his_ hands pulling his hair or scratching him until he bled. _Fuck…_ Cas needed to get fucked by _this_ one. He wondered how he could get the man to notice him without being too obvious.

He had no idea that the man had already spotted _him._

Dean was an expert at seeing without really looking and when a dark haired man with a leather jacket walks in by themselves, you pay attention. He spent some time flirting with his drink, letting his eyes wander aimlessly but never quite landing on the man. He waited to see if anyone joined him, but they didn’t. He didn’t want to let his hopes get too high so early, he was going to need to remind himself to keep his normal pace. Catch and release a couple of times; learn his habits and his story before he could pounce. Chances were good he’d find something that made him an invalid candidate in the first five minutes, but hell. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to see how bad this one squirmed while getting fucked dry and then hung up on meathooks by his fucking shoulderblades. He looked like a _screamer._ He eventually stood, setting his empty glass down on the counter and quickly brushing the glass clean. He made his way toward the jukebox, stopping right behind the man long enough to grip his hip hard and growl into his ear from behind. _“Nice t-shirt.”_ He pulled his hand away with a rough jerk and then continued to the jukebox, taking his time choosing a song.

Cas had seen the man stand and worried he was leaving but then noticed he was heading towards him... wait, no, not him... the jukebox.

He had turned towards his drink again just as he’d felt the firm grip on his hip and fucking melted at the man’s growl. _What did he just say? Doesn’t matter because he’s perfect. He won't know what hit him,_ Cas thought to himself. It never once occurred to him that _he,_ was in fact the prey here.

Cas turned around and watched the man select a song, and he made sure his legs were open wide and inviting when the man turned back around. When he finally pivoted, Cas tilted his head slightly and looked the man up and down in an obvious manner. _I wonder if we’ll even make it past the parking lot?_

Under normal circumstances, Dean would have walked away right there. He’d have sat back down in his seat and waited for someone else, or moved to a different bar entirely. He hated brats. While he appreciated a struggle sometimes, he preferred that to be when he was trying to end a life, not when he was trying to get off. And from the look on the man’s face when he turned around and the way his legs were spread like a whore begging for _anyone’s_ cock, he was a brat. A brat that didn’t give a shit who he went home with, which was usually a deal breaker for Dean, too. Yeah, wanting to be desired before he raped and murdered someone was a little strange, but hey, even serial killers had their quirks. But... this was _not_ a normal circumstance, because this was not a normal man.

He was beautiful in a way things in Dean’s life never were. It wasn’t blood or gore or pain that made him hold Dean’s attention, it was his face. The eyes he could swear were bluer than oceans even in the low light, still several feet away. The defiance in his eyes that in this case, made Dean want to break him _slowly._ He closed the distance between them and snapped the man's legs together, turning his entire body back toward the bar. Dean’s broad hand gripped the back of the man’s neck and squeezed as he leaned in to crowd his space. “You present yourself like a whore, you get fucked like a whore. Do you have _any_ respect for yourself, or is there nothing left at all for me to take from you?”

Cas laughed out loud and struggled against the man’s grip only a second to see how sound it was, and _fuck_... an earthquake wouldn’t loosen this iron grip.

Cas hardened in his jeans, and the thought of _this_ man fucking him like a whore made his cock ache. “How about you fucking find out big boy?” He challenged, not realizing what he was doing to a man who was so used to being in charge.

Dean’s answering laugh was dark and full of promise. He stretched his fingers further around the sides of Cas’ throat and squeezed a little harder. “Or, you could start with your name. If you want me to bend you over and split your used up little ass in half, I will... but you’re going to work for it. Entertain me first.” He released his neck and sat down, wiggling two fingers at the bartender without taking his predatory gaze off of Castiel.

Cas had a passing thought that this dude was looking for a boyfriend and that was _not_ something Cas wanted. “Trying to get married or something?” He said the words with an amused look on his face that wavered slightly at the gleam in this man’s eyes. _Should I even be honest?_ “Name’s Castiel. You?”

Dean chuckled and brought his glass to his mouth. “Not hardly. I’m trying to decide if you’re worth the effort it would take to break you or not. I don’t fuck brats, I prefer my toys to be... _pliable.”_ He finally takes the sip and sets the glass down.

Castiel leaned in and stared into Dean’s eyes. “You think _you_ can break me?” He smiled and sat up straighter, their eyes still locked. “No one could break me, handsome. How can you break something that was never fully together?”

Dean was momentarily caught off guard by the stir in his jeans. He blamed it on the eyes, there was a fire in those eyes that he couldn’t fucking _wait_ to put out. He brought his hand up to Cas’ face. “You know you won’t get a better offer than mine tonight, but you’ll need to do what you’re told.” He slid his thumb into Cas’ mouth and tilted his own head back in a challenge, his eyes on fire.

Cas nodded without realizing and then internally cursed himself. _What the fuck was that? Is this guy a fucking wizard or something?_ Cas had never just nodded after being told what to do. It was why his ass has been kicked more times than he can count. But something about _this_ asshole had Castiel needing to know what he was talking about. He secretly hoped he _was_ the one who could finally break him.

Cas brought his drink to his lips after Dean removed his salty, calloused thumb and filled the void with whiskey.

Dean slid his hand up Cas’ thigh and squeezed hard. “Good boy. Now humor me. Tell me something about yourself while I finish this drink, I don’t like _anything_ to go to waste.” He took another small sip.

Castiel frowned and took another drink. “Alright… I’m named after an angel, though I'm anything _but._ Been on my own since I was 17 because I loved cock and I’m really just passing through. You haven’t told me your name, what am I supposed to call you?” Cas gave Dean what he thought was little to no information about him but really, it was more than enough.

Dean had to fight the urge to take him right then, he was _literally_ too good to be true. He kept his face neutral and a single eyebrow raised. “You’re supposed to call me sir. Master, dom... majesty. Pretty much anything but ‘daddy’. That’s a good way to get your throat fucked so raw you’ll never speak again.” It was an empty threat... once he was done with Cas, he wouldn’t be speaking ever again, regardless.

Cas hesitated a second and finished off his drink. He’d never called anyone s _ir_ before but it was best out of those options… or he could walk away and find someone easier. Someone that would give Cas all the power. Because _this_ man wasn’t about to give Cas _any_. He gave the man another once-over and... well, Castiel had always been a curious one. “Okay, _Sir._ Ready to head out?” No one had ever really wanted to hang out before they fucked, it was just what was expected, why draw it out? “My studio is two blocks from here.”

Dean huffed quietly because Cas was apparently correct, he didn’t need to be broken, he already was. Dean had just needed to nudge him a little bit. He honestly wasn’t sure if he was happy or disappointed with that, but it didn’t matter. A hole was a hole and it looked like plenty of blood resided in that delicious fucking meat suit, so he nodded once, finishing his drink. “Not your place. Mine.”

Something in Cas’ gut told him not to go. But he shrugged it off, because maybe Cas wanted something to happen. Maybe this... was _exactly_ what Castiel wanted. “Alright then, lead the way… _Sir.”_

Dean stood up, tossing some cash on the bar and walking outside. When Cas followed, Dean turned to him, because there was no way he could take Cas back to the motel... but Cas’ place was an uncontrolled environment and too many things could go wrong. There might be cameras he doesn’t know about, or nosey neighbors or _both._ Trying to drag a body out of an apartment building unseen would be a nightmare. “Slight change of plans. You said you’re named after an angel, yeah? You ever been bent over an alter?”

For some reason, that line sent a shiver up Cas’ spine and he instantly _had_ to have it. “No, Sir. How about you show me what that’s like?” Cas stepped forward, more into Dean’s space. “I’d ride you in your car, handsome. I’m not picky.”

Dean grinned a little wickedly, _this_ one was going to be too easy. Like luring a moth to a flame, only to have the flame burn him up from the inside out. He gripped Cas’ chin and tipped his head back, inspecting Cas’ neck and jaw. “It’s cute you think I’d let you in my car. She’s pristine, and something tells me you’re anything, _but.”_ He turned away and headed towards the driver’s side of his car. “Follow me.”

Castiel frowned and grabbed Dean’s arm, pushing him slightly against a car he didn’t look twice at. “You telling me I'm not good enough for your precious, pristine car?” He didn’t know why it offended him, he normally wouldn’t give two shits, but if he was going to _listen_ to this asshole, he better at _least_ not degrade him. “You want me to follow you, call you sir, let you bend me over wherever you please? Then don’t treat me like I’m some corner slut. Because if _that’s_ what you want, it’ll be 100 bucks and I will _not_ call you _sir.”_

Dean smiled a little despite himself. _There’s that fire._ He gently removed himself from Cas’ grip and tilted his head curiously. “You presented yourself like a corner slut. One of the first pieces of information you offered about yourself was how much you _loved_ cock.” His eyes hungrily traveled over Cas’ body. “And then you couldn’t wait to get out of that bar to somewhere secluded enough that you could allow a complete stranger to fuck the _life_ out of you.” He smirked because that’s honestly what he was planning on doing. “And now you’re complaining about being treated in exactly the manner you’ve presented yourself. Seems to me you don’t know what you want, Castiel. Maybe I should come back once you do?”

Castiel was _annoyed._ Fuck this guy for being right. Sometimes it was easy to confuse business and pleasure. Most dudes would fuck Cas in their car and go on with their lives, regardless of how he _presented_ himself. This one was _so_ handsome that Cas was willing to play his game, as long as he got that dick in the end. But now... he’d rather find someone easier or someone who was going to at least pay him. This was too much work to do for free. “Maybe you should... _Sir.”_ Cas shoved Dean off and turned to walk further into the parking lot.

Dean considered skipping the consensual part of this evening entirely and just _taking_ Castiel, but a car pulled into the lot and the presence of witnesses stalled him. He _wanted_ Cas, wanted to see exactly how much someone that clearly broken could take before shattering completely. He wanted to force him to keep those blue eyes open as the breath slowly left his body and his blood washed the voices away, but... maybe this wasn’t the right time. Maybe it wasn’t the right place. Everything he did was so meticulously planned and Castiel was forcing him to reconfigure the rules at every turn. No, this wasn’t worth it. No one was. And yet... _“Castiel!”_ His voice echoed through the parking lot the second the newcomers were inside.

Cas froze and turned back toward Dean with a curious look on his face. He hesitated, but ultimately walked back over and stopped inches from Dean. “Yes?” He cocked his head.

Dean’s breathing quickened minutely as he considered his options, drawing out the silence and what little bit of space there was between them. He’d been charismatic before, charming even. He knew how to say whatever he needed to in order to get what he wanted, it was how he’d gotten so far without making mistakes. So he’d misjudged this one, it didn’t mean he couldn’t see it though to the end. He allowed his eyes to soften as he stared at Castiel’s mouth, the picture perfect image of someone that’s looking at someone _truly_ beautiful. Even his voice was softer, but the tone sent a bitter chill up his own spine, _this isn’t who he is._ “Come with me.”

Castiel was too invested at this point to say no. He thought about how this dude had better be fucking _amazing_ in bed if he was going to be worth all of this... but Cas had to at least find out. So, he followed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ. THE. TAGS. 
> 
> And yes, we're aware we're going to hell. It's fine.

The drive to the church was calculated precision. He made no mistakes, missed no turns, avoided all areas he’d spotted with traffic cameras. He kept a safe enough distance ahead of Castiel that it wouldn’t look to anyone that the other car was following him. The scene at the bar was already far from his mind; his focus was now fully on what was waiting for him at the church. He pulled around the back and shut his car off, getting out slowly and pushing down the growing chorus in his mind. They _always_ got louder before a kill. He leaned almost bored against the hood of his car as he waited for Castiel to arrive.

Cas laughed to himself when he saw the old abandoned church. _This dude wasn’t joking about the alter fuck._

He got out and walked towards Dean slowly, testing his patience. “This is a little rapey, _Sir._ I already said you can have it,” he attempted to joke.

Dean’s eyes danced with dark promise as he fixed his gaze on Cas and stepped forward. “Then I suppose I won’t get convicted, now will I?” He raised his hand to the back of Cas’ head and slowly curled his fingers around the mess of onyx locks. He tugged backward, hard but not brutal, and leaned in to kiss him. He started slow, marking the way he tasted before the fear set in. His thumb slid through Castiel’s belt loop and he yanked his hips forward toward himself, trapping him in a kiss that quickly turned possessive.

Cas was instantly compliant into the kiss. He normally liked to take that control for himself but releasing it and allowing this beautiful man to _own_ him sounded too fucking enticing. Even if it was only for a little while. Castiel parted his lips for Dean, allowing him to have everything he wanted and by the time the kiss ended, he was fully hard in his suddenly too tight jeans, his entire cock on display as he reached down to palm himself.

Castiel’s body was so responsive to him that Dean nearly unraveled in that parking lot. If he was like that just from a kiss he only threw half his effort into, what was he going to be like during sex? After? Would Castiel’s pale skin jump under his blade, like his very cells were trying to escape? Would he shake as the warm blood coated his chest, his back, his ass fucked raw by Dean? It was difficult to tell much of anything except for the fact that _Dean’s_ body was as equally responsive to Cas. In a rare move, he claimed the man in a second kiss which he held as he pivoted, dragging them both through the side door of the abandoned church. Just inside the door and already thoroughly flushed in darkness, he could think clearer. Gone were the eyes that shone so brightly, and their absence would be permanent soon. Maybe he’d carve them out of Castiel’s pretty head, keep them for when he needed a reminder as to why he didn’t allow this to get personal. He caged Cas against the wall, Dean’s knee coming up to dig almost cruelly against his crotch. He leaned into him, pressing him into the wall coated with years’ worth of dust and neglect. “Dean,” he whispered just before he closed his teeth around Cas’ earlobe. “My name is Dean.”

Cas fought every urge to take control. He _should_ be used to this, but the truth was, no matter how much men used him and his body, he _always_ felt in control. Yeah, they would pay to fuck his mouth or bend him over, but he _never_ gave up control. He would push back into them, tell them how inadequate they were so they would fuck him harder and _he_ would still feel in control.

But this was different. He wanted this... _Sir…_ no. _Dean._ He wanted _Dean_ to use him for everything he was worth. He hadn’t even known what to truly call him, but Castiel had been ready to submit.

And then he said his name.

This powerful, dominant man gave Cas some of the control back, making him grin and feel more in his element. _“Dean,”_ Cas said, testing it on his tongue. “You gonna let me suck that cock, _Dean?”_

Dean had no illusions about why he told Castiel his name. Once he had them alone, when no one could overhear... he loved the way his name rolled off their tongues in pleasure and eventually turned to a desperate plea for him to stop. So far, Castiel wasn’t disappointing him. He stepped back, fisting his hand around the fabric of that Led Zeppelin shirt and pulled him away from the wall, then pushed him backward. “At least you’re aware that it’s a gift. Walk, you should see a light soon. Head toward it.” He sneered in the dark at the hidden double meaning of those words.

Castiel huffed a laugh but complied. _This dude was weird... why am I so into it?_ He had just the right amount of liquor inside him to not give a fuck. He wasn’t drunk by any means, but he was buzzed just enough to have no self preservation. “What if I prefer the dark, Dean?” He asked with his back turned. “What if the light is just a reminder of what‘s missing inside? It’s the darkness that gets my dick hard... _Sir.”_

The corner of Dean’s mouth turned up, and he sounded almost amused as he responded. “I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem, Castiel. The presence of a single lantern isn’t going to do much to lighten the _dark._ Move faster, as much as I love a good chase, I’m getting bored.” He fought the urge to push Cas again, instead opting to move in front of him. He rounded the corner into the sanctuary and tried to quiet the voices in his mind screaming for him to just get it over with. Castiel would be dead soon and the voices appeased, but he had... _other_ needs to address first. He stared up at the cross stretching high and sturdy above the pulpit and immediately knew exactly how he would end Castiel. An angel, crucified like Christ himself. _Poetic._ He heard muffled footsteps behind him and knew Castiel had joined, but instead of turning to engage him he stripped slowly. It was warm enough outside that he hadn’t needed a jacket, so he peeled the red flannel from his body and tossed it to the side. His arms crossed by his waist and he arched his back as he raised them up, letting the cotton fabric brush along the muscles in his torso that he knew would draw his victim in even further. The shirt joined the flannel, and he finally spoke. “The light stays on. You’re so pretty, Castiel. It would be a shame not to be able to watch you come apart for me.”

Cas bit back a laugh at the _bored_ comment. Castiel may not be the smartest, but this man was anything but bored. He seemed... _home._ The fact that this church already had a lantern should have stirred something inside Cas. Something to let him know this wasn’t some spur of the moment decision like Dean made him believe. This church had been prepared for _this._ But it wasn’t fear Cas felt, it was _arousal._

He glanced up at the cross and then at Dean and could almost see his wheels turning but before he could make some bratty, _fuck me on that cross,_ comment, Dean took off his shirt and Castiel was mesmerized by his beauty. “I’m not the pretty one here, Dean.” Cas bit his lip and began unbuckling his jeans, eyes still locked on Dean.

Dean’s eyes traveled over the stained glass windows that were barely visible in the edges of the light the lantern cast off. He’d been called it all, pretty, beautiful, handsome, perfect... the words had lost all meaning long ago. And yet, the reminder that Castiel wanted this was welcome. He listened closely so the sound of Castiel’s pants pooling on the ground and smiled, looking back toward the cross. “Are you hard, thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you? All the things you _want_ me to do to you?

Cas pulled off his jacket and shirt but kept on his lacey blue thong and walked towards the cross, his cock throbbing hard at Dean’s question. He made sure his perfect ass was in the light as he dusted off the cross, not looking back at Dean but knowing he was watching. “Yes, Sir. I’m so hard for you it hurts.” Castiel palmed himself again and moaned. “Want you to choke me against this fucking cross before you even slide that cock inside my prepped hole.”

Dean crossed the distance in an instant, shoving Cas roughly against the thick beam and pressing against him with a growl. He normally preferred when his victims _weren’t_ already used up by some common toy, and the intensity of his cock’s response surprised him. What an _interesting_ time to discover he had a panty kink. That’s what it was, right? It was the lace blue thong disappearing between two perfect cheeks and no doubt barely containing a leaking, straining cock... _not_ the fire simmering barely contained under Castiel‘s skin and surfacing at the most surprising times.

He’d learned enough already to know that while Castiel didn’t enjoy being degraded, he _definitely_ wanted it rough. He braced his forearm across Cas’s back, pinning him to the dirty, splintered wood. “It’s your lucky day. I’m actually inclined to give you what you want.” He kicked Cas’ legs further apart with his boot and then quickly disrobed the rest of the way using his free hand. When he was fully naked, his erect cock bouncing in the small amount of space between them, he bit down on Cas’ shoulder hard enough to draw blood. The taste in his mouth set his bones alight with satisfaction and greed, and then he brought his hand around to Castiel’s front and gripped his throat. He squeezed the sides of Cas’ neck as his other hand tore the blue thong right off his body. “Tell me, angel,” he said as his hand gripped the base of the plug inside of him and fucked him with it once. “How much do you think your body can handle before you beg me to stop?”

Cas submitted to his strength, loving how easily Dean had him pinned with nowhere to go.

He groaned when Dean bit him and didn’t pull away in the slightest, nearly coming the second Dean’s hand wrapped around his throat. “Dunno Sir, no one’s ever got me to beg,” Cas grunted out. He suddenly wondered if Dean could get him to do the one thing he said he’d never do.

Dean pulled back, letting Cas turn around. He stood facing the cross, his weight shifted to his right foot. “On your knees.”

Cas bit back a smile and sank to his knees, gazing up at Dean through hooded eyelids. He wasn’t sure if he should start or if Dean had other plans for him, but he leaned forward anyway. He needed a _taste._

Dean caught Cas by the hair. “No. Sit up straight and open your mouth, I decide how much of me you get.”

Cas growled at the pull on his hair and he had to grip his cock again. Fuck this guy for figuring out every single one of Cas’ kinks in a matter of minutes. But Castiel complied, _again,_ letting his mouth fall open as he waited for that delicious thick leaking cock to touch his tongue.

Dean kept a rough grip on Castiel’s hair as he guided his length over the man’s bottom lip, spreading the precum over the pink, chapped skin. He pulled his cock just out of reach. Finally back in control, he was no longer in such a hurry. “Lick your lips. Tell me how I taste.”

Cas licked his lips and groaned. “Better than the Devil himself.” Cas tried to lean forward for more.

Dean yanks hard on Cas’ hair. “Oh, but baby I _am_ the devil.” He thrusted deep into Cas’ mouth, hissing as teeth grazed his shaft but it didn't slow him down.

Cas wasn’t given a second to respond before Dean was shoving his cock down his throat. And Dean wasn’t aware how much Castiel _loved_ it; how hard it got him to have his breathing restricted by a nice, fat cock.

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he watched Cas take him with a blissed out fucking look on his face. Dean wasn’t small, he could feel the way Cas’ throat tightened in an effort to push him out right before he forced the head of his cock to dip down past his tongue. It felt fucking amazing, but there was an emptiness in him from the lack of a struggle that had him pulling back to snap his hips so hard and fast it hurt _him_ more than it feels good, but he needed to know, needed to find the limit. He _needed_ to watch Castiel try to squirm away, try to get free... _something._ Didn’t he?

Cas was taken by surprise when Dean fucked his throat so hard it caused them both pain. Tears leaked from Cas’ eyes but he didn't pull away. He was just as curious about his own limits as Dean but more importantly, Castiel _wouldn’t_ beg. He looked up, locking eyes with Dean while his cock was in his throat, blocking his airway.

It took almost a full minute before Castiel’s natural fight or flight instincts kicked in and he attempted to pull away slightly, except... he couldn’t move. Dean’s grip on his hair was surely ripping hairs from his skull, and definitely keeping Castiel firmly in place.

The tears in Cas’ eyes only egged him on until he realized he was actually close to orgasming in his throat... and there was hardly any blood. Only the small bite mark on Castiel’s shoulder and it had been _years_ since he’d come without copious amounts of blood. The second he reminded himself of this, the creeping threat of orgasm retreated. When he felt Cas twitch under him he pulled out, impressed with how long he handled Dean’s all out assault but also not wanting to actually kill him yet. He kept his hand in Cas’ hair and jerked his head up to look into those insanely blue eyes. “Take your plug out. Now.”

Cas reached back and took the plug out, tossing it aside like it meant nothing. Because it didn’t, he had others and all he wanted right now was Dean’s cock, deep inside of him. His vision was still blurred from his lack of oxygen but he still kept his gaze on Dean, his watering, cerulean eyes locked with those jade, lust blown irises.

Dean stood there for a moment breathing heavily and taking in the sight of Castiel like this. He realized he _needed_ a picture of him to remember him by, so he walked over to grab the Polaroid he’d set by the lantern. When he turned to snap the picture, his breath caught in his lungs. The angle was perfect, something he wouldn’t have even thought to stage - on his knees, Castiel’s body blocked out that of the angel on the stained glass window behind him. The wings of the angel rose up on either side of Cas... _Cas,_ with tears in his eyes and spit slick, abused lips. Maybe he really _was_ an angel, sent to undo him. His finger clicked the button that would memorialize that moment forever, then he reached down and removed a condom from the pocket of his discarded jeans. He handed it to Cas. “Put it on me and then lay down on your back with your legs spread and in the air.”

Cas almost protested the photo, it was another thing he didn’t allow. But he didn’t have the willpower to give a fuck right now. He stayed there, not posing in anyway as Dean took the photo. It was creepy, in a sense, that this stranger wanted a photo of him on his knees but it also cemented for Cas that _this_ was a one time thing.

His green eyed devil wouldn’t be back for seconds and Cas frowned at the feelings that stirred inside of him. He shouldn’t care... they haven’t even fucked yet. This dude might suck in the sack... but even as he thought that, he knew it wouldn’t be true. This was about to the the best fuck of his life and then they would part ways _forever._

It would have to be enough.

Cas took the condom and opened it with his teeth before rolled the condom on Dean, still staring into his eyes as he laid back like he was told.

Dean growled at the sight of Cas spread open the way he was at the bar and once more changed his mind. He dropped to his knees, roughly grabbing Cas and flipping him over. He pressed his palm into the side of Cas’ face and thrust inside of him, feeling Cas’ hole swallow him in despite being prepped. The condom saves Dean from the worst of the discomfort but he could tell by Cas’ surprised little gasp that Dean bottoming out immediately had the desired effect. “I’m a helluva lot bigger than that plug, huh? Fuck, I can’t wait to tear you in half.” His hips snapped brutally against Cas’ already reddening ass as his hand kept Cas’ face pressed into the carpet.

“Ah! Fuck!” Cas groaned after Dean bottomed out inside him. Fuck he was _big_ in every sense and Cas was helpless to get away. The kicker was, he didn’t want to. Dean pounding his ass was exactly what Cas needed and wanted, and it had him hurtling towards the finish line. “You’re gonna... ah. Make... me come,” he managed to grunt out.

Confusion spiked through Dean at Cas’ words, and all it did was wind him up further. _Doesn’t he realize yet that he’s not walking out of here alive?_ He pushed Cas’ face down deeper into the carpet and then leaned back, digging his nails into the man’s hips as he pulled out and flipped Cas over. He landed with a grunt and Dean thrust back in with a brutal movement. “Look up at the cross, angel. I want Jesus himself to watch what happens next.” Dean’s insides were alight with pleasure, pain, and pure anticipation for the moment Cas gives in. He saw little purple bruises budding over Cas’ skin already from the places his hands have been and he grinned, letting out a moan laced with dark laughter. It was _almost_ time.

Cas glanced up at the cross and growled a laugh. “Jesus isn’t here, _Sir._ Fuck me like the devil you are.” He looked back down to meet Dean’s gaze once more.

Dean closed his fist around Cas’ throat before he could think about breaking his own rule and killing him without blood. His own eyes took on a wild glint as he squeezed, no longer attempting to control but attempting to kill. He was aware that Cas’ legs tightened around his waist and pulled him in further, he _knew_ he was still setting an unforgiving pace as he fucked Castiel into the floor in front of the cross. But his focus, all of it, was on those blue eyes. Even as Castiel’s face started to redden and swell from the lack of blood or oxygen to his head, the light _still_ wouldn’t go out. It suddenly occurred to him that nothing he could _ever_ do would put out that light. His hips stuttered and his grip loosened just a little as he realized with a jolt that he _didn't want it to._

Cas felt the intensity behind Dean’s fingertips and almost lost all resolve. He felt at the mercy of this beautiful devil and Cas soon realized, as his vision darkened, that he’d never felt more _alive._

Without thinking, Castiel reached up and gripped Dean’s throat back, squeezing as hard as he could and as soon as Dean’s face began to redden Cas came, harder than he’d ever come before... completely untouched.

Dean’s release ripped through him so viciously that his vision blacked. The combined pressure on his throat and cock sent him careening over an edge he hadn’t even noticed he was standing at. When the spots behind his eyes cleared and he came back to his senses, he looked down to find he was still fucking into Cas with a softening cock. His eyes scanned Cas’ body and something didn’t match up - there was no blood, no gore... Cas was still breathing, and yet... he’d finished. The feeling of his own spend still trapped in the condom as he finally pulled out of Cas was further proof that he’d fucked this up so thoroughly he was bound to get caught. He never, _ever_ came inside of a victim, with or without protection. Sex was too messy, too violent, to unpredictable to trust that he wouldn’t leave anything behind. His pulse pounded in his ears as he realized he couldn’t kill Castiel _or_ let him go, unless... he seemed to enjoy what they’d done. Maybe the naive little whore really hadn’t noticed Dean was trying to kill him?

Cas slumped onto the ground when Dean fucked his way through his own orgasm and there was a ringing in his ears as Dean came back into focus and he laughed. Actually, _laughed_ at the sight of Dean.

The man looked as if he’s never done this before, but how? When he was so fucking good at it. “You okay, Dean?” Cas asked as he ran a hand through his hair and glanced at his shoulder. The mark was there from Dean’s teeth, but there was hardly any blood. And that weirdly made Cas want _more_ blood. “Bite me harder next time baby, or maybe I can just bite you and taste your blood while I ride you against this raggedy cross.” Cas rutted up against Dean. “You gonna let me up?”

Dean shuddered with his hands braced on either side of the infuriating, dangerous man at the first mention of _harder._ How was it possible that he not only _could_ take more, but was asking for it? By the time _taste your blood_ worked its way through to his brain, his cock was giving a pathetic twitch between his legs. He remembered the taste of Castiel’s blood from earlier and pushed away from him, the memory calming him for a moment as he started gathering his things, not trusting himself to speak.

Cas sat up, still sitting on the floor and watched, “Yeah, that’s more like it. Have a nice night, _Dean.”_ He laid back down, not wanting to watch this one leave.

_He knows your name. He’s seen your face, he’s got bruises all over his body shaped like your hands. You were rough enough that any judge in the world would believe a rape story, even if that’s not what happened. Why isn’t that what fucking happened? Why is he still fucking breathing?! Kill him, before he becomes your undoing._ But Dean wouldn’t and couldn’t kill him. When he was dressed again, he grabbed his bag of weapons and toys from under the pulpit and shoved the Polaroid camera into it. His eyes scanned the area, making sure he had everything that belonged to him - he’d double back later to remove any traces of his DNA once he was sure Castiel was gone. The voices in his head were louder than ever and he was seconds away from screaming out loud, but he forced his face into a mask of control. He slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed the lantern. “You wanted darkness, angel? Have it.” He switched the lantern off and walked with practiced steps out of the sanctuary and back to the safety of the night air and the car that would be his salvation.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is haunted by the Angel that escaped...

Cas stayed at the abandoned church for a while before he slowly dressed. His ass was sore, hell, his _whole_ body was sore. He couldn’t see the marks Dean left on him, but he could feel them. It was dark once Dean turned out the light but he managed just fine once his eyes adjusted.

Maybe he should have been worried. He was far away from any other human, completely alone. He was normally fine with being alone, but for some reason, the rumble of Dean’s loud ass car as he drove away made Castiel feel even lonelier than ever before. Which was probably why that dark abandoned church didn’t scare him. It was no different than his own studio.

_Alone._ If there was one word to describe Castiel... that was it.

He should have gotten into his car and drove home. But instead, he sat back down with a grunt, thinking of everything that had just happened and everything he allowed this _stranger_ to do to him.

Dean drove back to the motel, and the second he shut the door, he lost control. He screamed, punching the mirror on the wall. It cracked loudly and he snarled as a piece of glass lodged its way between his knuckles. When he pulled the slice out of his hand, blood spattered over the remnants of the mirror. He caught a glimpse of himself in the jagged reflection - he’d never seen himself look so wild. Through the droplets of blood he saw a man half out of his mind, eyes wild and hair disheveled, not at _all_ how he normally looked after a kill. Which makes sense, because this wasn’t a kill. He’d failed, and for what? Because some broken little whore managed to hang on long enough to make him come? He smacked the lamp on the bedside table so hard it shattered against the wall. With a feral growl he upended the dresser with the tv still on it, the plug separating from the outlet with such force that the cord came back and snapped him. He fumbled in his bag for the knife he’d planned on using to kill Castiel and dragged the tip of the blade across his arm. The pain leveled his nerves and the blood quickly coating his hand quieted the voices. They weren’t gone, not this time, but they were better. He laid down on the bed, curling in on himself and holding pressure to his self-inflicted wound until he finally quit shaking enough to fall asleep.

Castiel ended up staying at the church until the sun was peeking over the horizon.

That was what it finally took for him to realize he spent the entirety of the night nearly crying over a fuck. It was _just_ a fuck. So, why did it feel so different? Whether Cas shed a tear or not was his own business. But his drive back to his shitty studio on the second floor was a silent one. He didn’t even look in the mirror when he got home, just collapsed on his bed and slept for well over a day.

Dean had gone back the next morning and scrubbed the place clean. He was meticulous, and the methodical _normalcy_ of cleaning up a crime scene helped him regain control of himself. Sure, he was aware that technically he hadn’t _committed_ a crime, but that was a detail he was choosing never to dwell on again. He’d find a new town, a new target. He’d soon forget about the blue eyed angel with a stronger will than any other mark Dean had ever come across. He went back to the motel and undid as much of the damage as he could, once more wiping any trace that he was there. This took longer, there was blood on the sheets and the carpet as well as the mirror and wall around it, but he managed. At least, managed well enough considering that for once in his life he hadn’t done anything wrong. He then stopped by the warehouse and grabbed the bag of things he’d left there, then drove out of town without looking back.

A full week later, Dean _finally_ found another potential victim. He was tall, his hair dark and his eyes a shade of blue that Dean referred to as _close enough._ He reverted back to his old pattern, not breaking his protocols for a second. He’d never let himself get out of control again. The light in this man’s eyes _did_ go out, and the plastic sheet his drugged body was laying on was so awash with blood that Dean slipped as he used a slick red hand to jerk his cock with rough, violent strokes until he was coming all over those glassy, _close enough_ eyes. The release felt good, and the power balance in his life returning to normal felt even better. But this time, the hunger returned almost instantly. Everything about that felt muted, weak, _wrong._ Like he was killing the man because he had to, not because it brought him joy. Dean didn’t know who he was if he no longer enjoyed killing. He managed to convince himself it was just a fluke, it was just the first success after his very first failure and that it would feel better again next time. He packed his things, dumped the body, and ran further away from the angel that flipped his entire world on its head.

The morning after, Cas had inspected his injuries from his time with Dean and could still see the handprint on his throat. He had bruises all over his hips and thighs and you could see every tooth in the bite mark. Cas was surprised when his dick got hard and he jerked it over the sink while he stared at Dean’s handprint on his throat, coming when he pictured his own around Dean’s.

Cas was _ruined,_ in every way. No one else would ever do.

He didn’t leave the house for nearly a week. It made him realize he hadn’t went a week without fucking someone in years, his ass deserved the break. But alas, he needed to eat. So, he got dressed, and made his way back out in the world.

Four months went by and Dean was a hurricane of pent up energy and self-doubt. He’d killed an additional 5 people in that time - higher than his normal kill rate for an entire year - and not one of them calmed him down the way they used to. He tortured a redhead for hours before he finally killed her. Kept a blonde haired little twink for a week until he was too used up to even be worth fucking anymore, and then killed him quickly. The other three were various shades of in the middle - dark haired, light haired, green eyes and brown, male, female, large and small. He’d gone back to his method of random selection and the random selection was bullshit. All he ever saw were angelic blue eyes. He saw those eyes when he killed, when he came... when he slept. He heard Cas’ voice in his head with all the others. _Bite me harder next time, baby. Or maybe I can just bite you and taste your blood while I ride you against this raggedy cross._ With each kill, the voices left him alone for less and less time. Eventually, he had to face the fact that he was never going to be able to kill for fun again, at least not weak ass humans that begged for their lives instead of looking Death in the face like _he_ did. Like his angel did.

He packed up his things and drove back to Cas’ town without giving it much thought. He stayed in a different motel, but set up the same church. He had no idea if he’d be able to follow through this time, but it almost didn’t matter. One way or the other, he needed to look into those eyes again. It took three days of him driving past the bar where they’d met to finally see his car there. He pulled in, avoiding the cameras again, and sat in the parking lot until he finally convinced himself to actually go in.

**********

After a week of moping around Cas started fucking again. At first, it was just for money. But then he ran into a hot, green eyed man and _had_ to try him, only it was _completely_ anticlimactic. The vanilla bullshit wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

The first time Cas looked for a dom he hated it. He had to practically beg for the man to take control and it left him feeling weak and dropping almost as hard as the last time. But he tried again, once he was able to accept the fact that _no one_ would be quite like Dean.

Those four months flew by and Cas had his fair share of shitty doms. Thankfully he only needed that fix every few weeks. But by now, he realized nothing could ever cure that craving.

Cas didn’t go out out that night looking for a dom, but he _did_ go out to get used. He caught the eye of a tall, decent looking man the second he walked in and soon he was buying his drinks, so Cas was being friendly.

Dean stepped into the bar and immediately, his eyes landed on Castiel. Something wound up in his chest loosened. _Soon, you’d have him again soon._ Or would he? Cas wasn’t alone. Didn’t look like he _wanted_ to be alone either. Anger sparked though him, Cas was _his._ What didn’t he understand about that? He ordered a drink, keeping his voice low. He knew he could get Castiel away from the man, but at what cost? He’d basically be drawing attention to himself _and_ his affiliation with Castiel - and he wasn’t entirely convinced he wouldn’t yet kill the man. Although, if he didn’t... he certainly knew who his next victim would be.

Dean was only 6 days out from his last kill and was feeling much more relaxed than their first encounter. Or, at least, he would have been if that handsy fucking _douchebag_ didn’t keep repeatedly touching his property. Dean finished his drink and stood from his barstool, quickly crossing the bar and wrapping an arm around Cas. He fixed the man with a stare that could wilt a flower. “Sorry, he’s taken.”

Cas hadn’t seen Dean enter the bar, in fact, he hadn’t seen Dean at all until he was putting his arm around him. He turned to push _whoever_ it was off but when he realized it was Dean, he froze and the tall man - named Nick - stood up. “Wasn’t taken a moment before. Why don’t you let him choose for himself?”

Dean’s eyes glinted but he didn’t look at Castiel. He instead lowered his arm to Cas’ waist and dug his fingertips into him, knowing once upon a time, Dean had left bruises there. “Fine, if you don’t wanna bow out like a gentleman, I’ll let the angel tell you to fuck off. Castiel?”

Cas was tempted to tell _Dean_ to fuck off, just to hold on to control a little longer, but the second Dean’s fingers gripped his waist he was brought back to that night. Images of Dean pounding his ass clouded his mind and he spoke before even giving it a second thought. “Fuck off, Nick. I’m taken.”

Nick shoved at Cas. “You gonna pay for them drinks then pretty boy? Thought your name was James.”

Dean didn’t hesitate, it was the first time since he was a child that he let his emotions rule over logic. He punched Nick in the jaw with a deafening crack, then shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out a single dollar bill. He shoved it at Nick’s chest. “There, and I bet that’s a whole two dollars more than you’re worth.” He grabbed Cas’ hip again and led him outside. The second they were clear of the bar he turned to finally look at him. “You have shit taste in hookups, _James_.”

By the time Dean spoke, Cas’ cock was rock hard. Watching his devil punch someone in the face had him so turned on he wanted Dean to fuck him right here against the wall.

“They can’t all be winners, _Dean._ ” Cas palmed himself. “Didn’t think you’d be coming back anyway.”

Dean grinned, much less feral than last time. He’d killed recently, he’d just felt a man’s jaw break under his fist and he was finally not imagining those blue eyes. “You hard for me already, Cas?”

Cas nodded enthusiastically. He felt nearly desperate for Dean’s cock. “Fuck... been hard for… what, four months now. _For you._ ”

Dean lifted Cas’ chin up. “My car this time. If you’ve been hard for me for four months, I think you deserve a ride.” He leaned in and kissed him, pulling his bottom lip out with his teeth as he turned and walked toward his car with his hands in his pockets and not a care in the world.

Cas shivered and followed Dean to his beautiful black Impala and watched him climb inside. As soon as he closed the door behind him, he instantly reached for Dean like a fiend. “Just a taste. Need that cock.”

He grabbed Cas’ hand and put it over his crotch, where he was still soft. “Not much for you to taste yet.” He let go of Cas’ hand and wondered if the whole _can’t get hard without the prospect of murder_ thing was going to prove to be an issue here. He started the car and drove.

Cas sat back disappointed. Why was he still soft? Cas was about to bust out of his jeans... didn’t punching that guy do _anything_ for Dean? Cas got the vibe Dean was aroused by violence and couldn't help but worry _this time_ wouldn’t be as good as the last.

Dean ended up pulling off to the side of the road into a dark, deserted area mostly hidden from the road by trees. He put the car in park and got out of the car, walking around to open Cas’ door. “Get out.”

He had thought they would return to their sex church, but Cas wasn’t about to complain. He got out of the car and stood tall. “How can I help you?” He said in a playful tone with a grin.

Dean let his eyes slowly drag over Cas’ body and then raised his arm, gently wrapping his hand around Cas’ throat. “How long did it take my marks to heal?” He squeezed just a little, and _there it is,_ his dick finally chose to wake up. “Tell me how it felt the next day when you couldn’t move without remembering what I did to you.”

Those blue eyes fluttered closed when Dean wrapped his hand around his throat. “Fuck, like a week.” He leaned into Dean’s hand further and grunted, his cock painfully straining his jeans. “My whole body hurt and I got off looking at the marks you left behind.” Cas reached for his zipper to free his throbbing cock.

As Cas spoke, Dean thickened rapidly. _He fucking loved it._ And when Cas undid his pants, Dean didn’t stop him. “Open your eyes. I want you to look at me when you answer me.” He squeezed and released his neck but kept his hand there. “Did you prep tonight?”

Cas looked up and stared into those beautiful green eyes that had haunted him since that night. “I fingered myself before I left but I’m not wearing a plug.” He freed his cock, already feeling a slight release. His jeans were too fucking tight.

Dean’s hand wrapped around Cas’ cock the moment it was free and tugged hard. “Still like pain as much as I remember?”

Cas groaned and fucked into Dean’s fist. “Bite me and find out.”

Dean leaned in, tightening his grip on Cas’ cock but finally letting go of his neck. He bit him softly at first, barely grazing his teeth over the skin. He was salty, like Dean’s mere presence made him sweat. He loved it and bit a little harder, trapped skin between his teeth and his tongue flicked over it. The third time he bit down, he broke the skin, pressing his body against Cas’ and pinning him to the car. He did it again, just above the first bite until he could taste blood, and only then did he pull back. He was fully hard now, his cock pressing against his jeans as he yanked his shirt over his head.

Cas was fucking leaking with every bite and when Dean broke the skin, Cas sighed as if it was the best feeling in the world. “Fuck,” he whispered. “There’s no one like you.”

Dean tossed his shirt to the side and crowded Cas, caging him against the car. “I could say the same thing about you.” He drank in the sight of those eyes and then kissed him hard enough their teeth clashed. He broke the kiss and spun Cas around, shoving him down until he was bent over the hood of the Impala. He jerked Cas’ jeans down further to reveal his ass and smacked it roughly enough the sound echoed through the trees around them.

Cas went wherever Dean put him without a fight, he _needed_ Dean inside of him. He moaned loudly after the slap. “Oh fuck, please, fuck me.” Did he just beg? _Fuck!_

Dean was _nearly_ turned off by it. “Patience, angel. I didn’t drive all this way _not_ to feel your ass squeeze my cock when I block your fucking airway off again.” After all, the thing that drew him to Cas was his unwillingness to beg even for his own life. But on some primal level, knowing that Cas was more desperate for his cock than he was to save his own life had Dean roughly stuffing his bent over angel with three fingers just to see how prepped he really was.

Cas hated himself for that slip. He didn’t fucking beg. But no one had ever had him writhing this way before. He would have felt shame if Dean hadn’t slid his fingers inside his tight hole. Cas didn’t fuck as often as of late and wondered if Dean would notice.

Dean regretted not making Cas take his shirt off, it meant he had to sacrifice the hold he had on him in favor of pulling the fabric up far enough he could bite him again. More than once, the thought of taking a knife to Cas’ smooth, beautiful skin crossed his mind. How incredible he would look with blood cascading down, slicking Dean’s fingers as he drove them deeper. That thought alone had Dean at the edge of his own patience. He pulled his fingers out abruptly and growled. “Stay there.” He walked around to the Impala’s trunk and grabbed a condom and a bottle of lube. He wasn’t sure he’d need or would use the latter, but once he was buried inside of Cas again, he wasn’t stopping until he was done. He tossed the things he’d grabbed over by Cas’ feet and took his time stripping the rest of the way down.

Cas stayed where he was bent over and watched Dean go to his trunk. Fuck, what was it about this guy that had Cas needing his cock so bad he couldn’t think straight? Cas pulled his own shirt off so he could hopefully feel the hard, cold metal of the Impala against his chest while he was pounded relentlessly.

Dean smirked at Cas when he took his shirt off and once he was naked, he lined up behind him. He bent down to retrieve the condom and this time put it on himself. He smacked his cock against the spot on Cas’ ass that he’d spanked. “Put your hands together behind your back. Now that I know you can come just from my cock alone, that’s exactly what you’re gonna do for me. I’ll wait.”

Cas huffed a laugh and put his arms behind his back. “Might need a little help staying still, handsome.”

Dean grinned behind Cas and wrapped his large, calloused hand around Cas’ wrists. He leaned forward a bit throwing his weight into the grip. “Can you move?” He slid three fingers back into Cas just to make him squirm.

Cas moved and barely had an inch. “Fuck, no... I can’t move much. You gonna keep talking or fuck me now?” Cas was happy Dean couldn’t see his grin. He knew Dean didn’t want a brat, but Cas needed Dean to be _rougher._ His spank bank needed the material.

Dean brushed his fingers over Cas’ prostate and laughed quietly. “Just because you said that, I think I’m gonna make you come first and _then_ I’m gonna fuck you. You ever done that, angel? Fucked someone when they were already overstimulated?” He moaned low and tapped his prostate again, then slammed his middle finger against it. “We already know you _can_ beg... lets see what _else_ makes you do it, hm?”

Cas groaned and cussed at his inability to keep his mouth closed. “Okay, Dean.” Cas accepted his fate, but he _wouldn’t_ beg again.

Dean continued his assault of Cas’ prostate, keeping a tight grip on his hands. When he felt Cas start to squirm under him, he knew his angel was close - he pulled back, holding for just a moment and then lightly flicked over that sweet spot once again.

Cas couldn’t count how many times he’d said the word _fuck_ since Dean started. But he still wouldn’t fucking beg.

Dean slid his fingers deep, twisting them as he bent over to lick the broken skin on Cas’ back. He bit him again, hard enough to draw blood. He moved his hand, using his body weight to keep Cas pinned down as he reached below him and curled his fingers around Cas’ throbbing cock. “You want me to fuck you, angel? I want you to paint my pretty car white first.” Dean hit his prostate again and twisted his hand _just_ this side of too quick.

Cas tried to grip something, _anything,_ but there was nothing to hold. When Dean called him angel it sent a chill up his spine and he realized he fucking _craved it._ Craved the pet name this monster has given him. “Ah fuck, Dean. Gonna come!”

Dean rested his forehead between Cas’ shoulders, stunned in the way he loved hearing his angel say his name. He bit again, this time not with the intention of breaking skin, but the intention of leaving a different kind of mark. The kind of mark that would let anyone else that ended up behind Cas know that he belonged to someone else. To him. To _Dean._ He growled, thrusting his fingers in so forcefully that his palm stung from contact with Cas’ ass as his thumb pressed into his precum slicked slit. “Do it now, or you won’t do it at all. Come, angel. Come for your devil.”

Cas grunted something Dean couldn’t understand as he came harder than he had in months - since his last time with Dean. Only _Dean_ could make him come this way and his legs nearly gave out as he slumped forward over the hood of Dean’s beautiful car. “Fuck. I want to make you feel this good, too,” Cas whispered breathlessly.

Dean grinned and pulled his fingers out of Cas, once more gripping his hands to keep him pinned as he _finally_ thrusted into Cas’ stretched out hole. He moaned, irritated for the first time that the condom wrapped around him was muting this experience. He didn’t give his angel a chance to adjust before snapping his hips, bringing his other hand up to fist in Cas’ hair and pull his head back. “Be a good boy and take it, and _maybe_ I’ll end up feelin’ as good as you did.”

“I’ll be a good boy, ah fuck!” Cas grunted with each hard thrust to his prostate with a symphony of curse words escaping his lips in an inaudible whisper.

Castiel has never truly cared how much his partner enjoyed it until Dean. He wanted Dean seeing stars _just_ like he was, and Dean pulling his hair had his cock twitching with interest. No way he could come again... right?

Dean hated the fact that he only had two hands. How was he supposed to choose between keeping Cas pinned, pulling his hair, scratching down his back, choking him so his ass squeezes around Dean’s cock and gripping his hips so hard the bruises last for _two_ weeks this time? There are too many things he wanted to do, too many ways he wanted to mark _his_ angel as his. It was frustrating in ways sex shouldn’t frustrate him.

An animalistic growl ripped from his chest as he fucked Cas into the side of his car. He could feel that little ring of muscle opened up by Dean’s fingers constricting again, fighting back against the thick, throbbing mass of Dean’s cock and it drove him fucking _wild._ “Does it hurt, Castiel?” He was asking not in concern, but in hope. Hope his angel can feel every fucking inch of him tearing him apart.

Cas was whimpering in pleasure as Dean assaulted him in the fucking best way. “Fuck yeah!” He responded. It _hurt!_ But also felt so good he might just… “Fucckkk!” Cas came again, not as intensely as the last, but he still struggled to keep himself upright. He wanted to be a _good boy._

When Dean realized Cas was actually coming again, he yanked his body back by his hair and wrapped his other hand around his throat. “Twice, angel?” The words came out much less menacing than he’d hoped, because the second he had Cas’ body upright and flushed with his, he saw the mess they’d made all over his car. Instead of pissing him off, it untethered something primal in Dean and he came _hard,_ nearly falling over in the process. He fucked Cas’ nearly limp body through his orgasm and then dropped his angel back down to the hood of the car as he pulled out, tying off the condom before he lost all motivation to move. “Holy _shit,_ Cas.”

Castiel smiled at yet _another_ nickname from his Devil, who also seemed much less devilish this time around. Yes, Dean demanded control and inflicted the best kind of pain, but it was different. He didn’t want to just hurt Cas. And maybe it was because he knew Cas got off on it. Who knows, and really, who cares. No matter how _devilish_ Dean was, he was everything Castiel needed. Not that he would admit that just yet. “Fuck, I won’t be able to sit for a week.” Cas found some strength to stand and looked for his clothes. “You’re not gonna leave me out here right?” He asked, remembering the last time Dean came and ran out.

Dean considered this for a second and was startled to find that no, he didn’t feel that tug behind his navel telling him to leave. The voices that usually ruled his life were silent in the way they previously used to be after a kill - maybe all he needed was the proper combination of blood and good sex. Truth be told, he felt more normal at that moment than he had in years. He shook his head. “Nah, I brought you out here, least I could do is give you a ride back to the bar. I’m kinda hungry though, it’s up to you if I grab food before or after I drop you off.”

Cas eyed him a moment, realizing he had never humanized Dean before. “Didn’t know the devil ate.” He huffed a laugh. “Does the devil like burgers? I know a place where I can get us free food.” He looked back at Dean, waiting to see his reaction when he realized what Cas meant and _how_ he gets free food. He didn’t know why he cared, but he was curious how it would make Dean feel.

Except Dean _didn’t_ realize what he meant, it never occurred to him that Cas would be stupid enough to try something like that right in front of him. He shrugged and then began getting dressed again. “Can’t ever go wrong with a double bacon cheeseburger, but in my experience, free food is usually shit food - I have money, so that ain’t an issue.”

Cas laughed to himself. He was actually glad that his joke hadn’t clicked, he really shouldn’t test someone like Dean... or actually, just Dean. There was _no one_ else like him. “Bacon cheeseburger, yes. Double? No. I can’t handle that much meat.”

Dean threw his head back and laughed as he went around to the drivers side of his car. “I beg to fuckin’ differ, angel. Don’t sell yourself short, I think you can handle a _lotta_ meat.” He was still chuckling as he got into the car, and if he hadn’t laughed like that in years, who cared? Who needed to know?

Cas stared in awe at Dean’s laugh. Fuck... it was beautiful. Had he really never seen him laugh? It made Cas want to make him laugh every day... woah... okay, too far. It was just a good sight. After a good fuck. Cas was just a little blissed out from those orgasms, he wasn’t thinking straight.

He finished dressing and climbed in Dean’s car gingerly, but still had to bite his lip. His ass _and_ entire back hurt, making him wonder what kind of marks he’d have tomorrow.

Dean started the car and looked over at Cas, smirking as his eyes traveled over him. “You’re a mess.” He slowly licked his lip and admired what a _good_ mess it was, before clearing his throat and pulling back onto the road. “Where am I goin’? I don’t know shit about this town.”

“You should stay a while and figure it out. Still haven’t had a chance to ride you. Just go back towards the bar and I’ll tell you which way to go.” Cas watched Dean drive, looking at the veins in his arm as he gripped the steering wheel. He wanted to taste Dean’s release one day but he kept that to himself, he already said too much.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed that fluffy one shot I posted cuz here's some more angst - Ketch

If Cas had put it any other way, he’d have said no. But sticking around a little, just to get Cas out of his system so he could go back to living his fucking life without seeing his eyes _all_ the time? Yeah, maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. “Not makin’ any promises on the whole _“awhile”_ thing, but we’ll see what happens. I’m stayin’ in a motel right around the corner from the bar.” He followed the directions Cas gave him and then pulled into the diner.

Cas shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal and hid his feelings well... or he _hoped_ he did. But the truth was, he wasn’t done fucking Dean, he didn’t know if he ever would be. Dean saying where he was staying was more information than he’d ever given before. There was only one motel by the bar so Cas knew exactly where he meant. “If I ask you anything, are you going to be honest or should I just skip all that bullshit and keep things how they are?”

“Funny, coming from the guy that got pissed off and almost walked away from me when I wanted to take eight seconds to actually talk to him.” He raised his eyebrows, knowing damn well Cas wouldn’t be able to handle the truth. “And I guess it just depends on what you wanna know, honestly. If you’re lookin’ for me to somehow morph into boyfriend material, you’re better off just savin’ your breath. What you see is pretty much what you get.”

“Right back at you.” And he meant it. Cas was anything _but_ boyfriend material. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend, I was just curious where you’ve been. Do you travel for your work? And I'm not asking _what_ you do. I don’t care, just like _you_ don’t care what I do.” Not that Cas actually worked, but he imagined Dean didn’t want to hear about that anyway.

Dean rolled the question around in his mind. He supposed that yeah, he considered murder what he did for a job. He actually got paid for it once, that’s how he figured out he was good at it and it helped with the voices in the first place. Since then, he’d been hustling pool, robbing his victims and using fake credit cards to stay alive and ahead of the cops. “Uhh, yeah. I travel for work, but there’s no set... schedule? I usually just bounce around every couple of weeks.” He flicked his eyes towards the diner’s door and back to Cas. “We gonna go in or sit here all night? This wasn’t supposed to be a damn date, I’m starving.”

Cas didn’t respond, he just got out of the car and walked in, nodded at the waiter he’d fucked a few times and sat in a booth. He knew it wasn’t a date, he always sat there. “Bacon cheeseburger for me and a double for a... friend.” He didn’t even wait for Dean to come in and sit, he already knew what he wanted so he ordered it for him. “Wait, some water too.”

The waiter gave Cas a flirty smile. “You got it handsome.” He turned and walked away.

Dean’s eyebrows quirked as he slid into the booth just moments after he heard the waiter hit on Cas. “You two... _acquainted?”_

“You can say that. I’ll be right back.” Cas got up and made his way to the bathroom. He needed to freshen up.

Dean looked around for the waiter to order his food, and he noticed Dean staring at him. He came over to ask what he needed, and when Dean attempted to order a double bacon cheeseburger but he was informed Cas already ordered him one. He frowned because _what the hell gave Cas the right to order for him?_ But at the same time, it’s not like he was wrong. He eyed the waiter, he hadn’t missed the way the guy’s eyes lit up when he said his name. “You two know each other?”

The man smiled. “Yeah, he’s a regular, _very_ generous tipper. He’s never came in with a _friend_ before though. Are you guys...?” He did a hand gesture, asking if they were together.

Dean would have said no, because they’re _not,_ but something about his tone made Dean’s fists clench under the table. “Yeah, he’s mine.” He uncurled his fingers and leaned back against his seat, tilting his head and giving the waiter a challenging stare. “So uhh... whatever _arrangement_ the two of you had? It’s done. Capisce?”

The man straightened up, fear in his eyes. He wasn’t about to cross Dean, he could feel he wasn’t someone you fucked with. “Yeah... okay. Got it.” He walked away just as Cas walked out of the bathroom.

Cas didn’t look at him twice, because Dean sitting in a diner booth took his breath away. He still couldn’t picture Dean doing anything as mundane as eating in the diner. Cas really needed to get a grip, he was putting Dean up on some pedestal because the sex was good. He shook the thoughts away and slid into the booth. “What’s with the scowl?” Cas chugged his glass of water.

Dean watched the waiter walk away like a hawk tracking a mouse through a field. He was silent for several seconds before he returned his attention back to Cas. “Sorry, I think I ruined your free burgers.”

Cas laughed and slightly choked on his water. “Why? Now I have to pay when you’re gone the next four months?” He shook his head with a smile. “Did you scare him?”

Dean nodded, grateful he’d just gotten off not a half an hour ago or else it’d be painfully clear to everyone in that diner just how much the fear in peoples’ eyes turned him on. “He asked a stupid question, I gave him an answer. Don’t think he was very happy about it.” He pulled his glass of water to his lips and took a slow sip, his eyes locking onto his angel’s.

Cas gazed at Dean and bit his lip. The thought of Dean scaring a man had Cas’ cock twitching and he did _not_ expect that. “I actually wish I’d seen that.” Cas reached down to adjust himself.

“Oh?” Dean’s eyes flicked down to the table that was barely concealing what Cas was doing. “Shame you’ve already come twice, angel. I’d talk you off right here, _juuust_ to prove I could.”

Cas grinned and leaned forward. “No one’s ever made me come three times before, Dean.” The waiter walked up behind Cas and saw the marks on the back of his neck, his eyes widened before looking straight at Dean’s face and hurrying away. Dean had _definitely_ got his point across.

Dean was tickled fucking pink between the waiter’s reaction to the marks _and_ Cas’ challenge about getting him off three times. He wondered what the waiter would do if Cas came in his pants without Dean even moving a muscle. He adopted an easy, long-forgotten grin and noticed how strange it felt. “You challenging me, angel? This would require a... certain level of cooperation from you, though I’m sure the public setting won’t be too much of an issue.”

Cas stared at Dean’s grin a moment, committing its beauty to his memory.

He _did_ want to challenge him, he _did_ want Dean to do more to him than anyone else could. But he also didn’t want that grin to go away just yet, and when Dean became the devil, that grin was long gone. “I think we should get some food in you first, handsome. Let’s see how you do after that.”

A different waitress brought out their food letting them know their former waiter was on break and she would be taking care of them from now on. “Guess you scared him off.”

Dean took his food and winked at the waitress, knowing there was no _way_ he’d have to worry about her. Sure, Cas might occasionally fuck chicks for money, he didn’t know the details and didn’t care to - but it was overly obvious what his angel’s preferences were. She smiled back at him looking a little unnerved, and after she left their table he popped a fry in his mouth. “Good. Don’t give me a reason to do more than scare him, yeah?”

Cas was lifting a fry to his mouth and paused, tilting his head. “What else would you do?” He asked curiously, trying and failing to hide the excitement in his voice.

“If I found out that he touched you again after I explicitly warned him against doing such a dumbass thing?” He glanced at the ceiling, letting his mind wander to what he’d do to someone - _anyone_ that openly defied him. “I think I’d start with his fingers, to be honest.” His tone was light and contemplative, but there was a sense of gravitas to his words. “Do you know how many times you can break a single human finger? Depends on the tools you’ve got, but... suffice it to say the answer is probably higher than you think.” He paused to take a bite of his burger, moaning at the taste because it had been a long time since he’d sat down to a normal meal. “Then... I dunno. Depends on how mouthy he was at the time.”

Cas closed his eyes and took a breath. He looked around the diner and then back into Dean’s eyes, where he could see that Dean wasn’t joking. It was clear he’d done _exactly_ what he just said before. Cas slowly leaned forward and took a chance. “I’d like to watch that too.” He sat back again and finally took a bite of his burger.

Cas had never acted on his urges, he would just fuck until they were out of his mind, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have them. He might have to dabble in this a little.

Dean’s eyes flashed with surprise and wicked things at Cas’ words. “Be careful what you wish for, angel.” _You nearly had a front row seat once,_ flashed through his mind, but he left those words unspoken. Most people were turned on by a little bit of violence, especially when it wasn’t directed at them or really anything other than words, and if they said they weren’t, they were lying. But Cas had no idea just how deep that well ran within Dean, what a tangible fucking thing his bloodlust was.

Cas grinned, “Sure thing, Dean.” 

Of course, he had no clue the things Dean had done, but something inside of him told him Dean had done some dark things and instead of it causing the urge to run, it made Castiel want _more._ Cas shifted in his seat just to feel Dean again and moaned so low only Dean could hear it. His entire backside was aching and he still wanted more, except, he wanted to cause the marks next time. Not just _get_ them.

Dean smiled, just a small thing that smoothed out some of his rougher edges but did nothing to sugarcoat the underlying darkness. “You just can’t get enough, can you.”

Cas shook his head, slightly serious for a second before going back to his normal carefree self. “What can I say, you’re irresistible.”

Dean never cared about the level of pain he caused someone and was relatively relieved to know that Cas wouldn’t be an exception to _that_ as well. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and let it out quickly. “Y’know, I only got off once during all that. Maybe I’ll fuck you again before this night is over.” And with that, he went back to eating until his burger and fries were just memories on his plate.

Cas hid his smirk behind his burger. He was giving Dean too much of himself. Did he want Dean to fuck him again? _Hell yeah._ But he should be making Dean work a little... right? He was just eating out of Dean’s fucking hand and that wasn’t Castiel. Castiel _took..._ he didn’t _give._ “Maybe I'll let you.”

Dean laughed quietly at the implication that he gave a shit about consent. He’d admit the challenge was an interesting change and their banter was amusing, but he had no illusions that he’d actually stop if Cas ever told him no. Maybe he’d end up finishing the job after all. At the end of the day, that’s all this was, right? Curiosity about the only victim he’d ever chosen that he couldn’t actually kill? “It’s cute you think you could stop me.”

That simple phrase sent Cas over. His dick chubbed up in his jeans and he dropped the fry he was attempting to eat. _Goddammit! How does this fucking guy get to him so easily?_ Cas wanted him to take it. _Needed_ him to take it and it was going to take a lot to fight it. He groaned and sat back, trying to adjust his semi without touching it too obviously.

Dean’s interest in this situation skyrocketed. He’d basically just admitted he wasn’t above raping Castiel if he didn’t give it up without a fight, and it _clearly_ did something for him. To the untrained eye, Castiel’s reaction might not have seemed like much - but everything in Dean’s life revolved around his ability to read people. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing but a flirty, sadistic grin plastered to his face. He lowered his voice to not be overheard. “You like that thought, angel? Your devil tearing your clothes right off your body if you tried to tell me no? Stalking you across this diner if you tried to run and _taking_ what I wanted from you right here?”

Cas gave up trying to eat his food and was biting his lip so hard it bled. He sucked at it, breathing deeply as Dean spoke. He didn’t trust his voice in that second, so he nodded, took a breath and leaned forward. _“No.”_ He growled, hoping Dean knew _exactly_ what he was saying no to.

Dean’s pupils slowly expanded as he watched the blood appear and then disappear from Cas’ lip. He heard a ringing in his ears and there was no longer an option for any of them - consensual or not, he was _going_ to have Cas again. His voice took on a commanding tone that surprised even Dean. “Car. _Now._ Dinner’s over.” He stood, and had absolutely no intention of paying for their food, so he looked around for the waiter. He found him cowering near the register. He said loudly, “Since you seem to enjoy giving out free dinners, we’re gonna call this one even, yeah?” He turned his eyes back to Cas, who hadn’t stood up yet. “Why aren’t you _moving?”_

Cas shrugged, playing his part. “Ehh gotta go take a piss.” He got up and walked to the bathroom with slow, deliberate steps. Wondering how many people were just trying to eat their evening meal, having to see his growing erection as he walked.

The voices in Dean’s head were screaming at him to go back out to his car and wait. He was already drawing more attention to himself than he wanted to, and Cas _had_ to come out eventually, right? Dean was his ride. He could wait him out, take what he wanted from the man once they were safely out of sight.

But, as with so many other things where Castiel was involved, Dean opted not to listen to the voices. He silently stalked across the diner behind Cas, catching the door and sneaking in before it had a chance to shut. He saw Cas step in front of a urinal and took slow, deliberately quiet steps towards his back. He listened as Cas pissed, and when Cas moved to zip his jeans back up, Dean gripped his left arm and twisted it behind his back as he shoved him face first against the wall. “What part of _any_ of that made you think you had time or _permission_ for a bathroom break?”

Cas grunted when his face slammed against the wall so hard it definitely cut him, but he smiled, pushing back against Dean’s iron grip. “Didn’t see anyone stopping me.” He pushed further. “How about you let go and stop pretending you’re about to do something here in this bathroom.”

Dean didn’t bother laughing, didn’t bother responding at all. He used his iron grip on Cas’ forearm to take care of the most pressing issue at hand - the unlocked door. He manhandled Cas over to it and once again, slammed him against the door. He dug his shoulder into Cas’ spine and roughly pulled his jeans down to his knees, then did the same to himself. He stood, this time gripping the back of Cas’ neck to hold him in place. “So much for you riding me, huh, angel? If you’d have just waited until we were out of here…” his cock was already hard, and it only took him a moment to line up and force himself into Cas. He hissed at the lack of lube but there was at least _some_ left over from the condom he’d used last time. He cursed himself for not wearing one now, but it was too late - the damage there would be done either way and he couldn’t stop now if he tried. Cas had snapped the last little bit of sanity Dean had regained with his last kill. He thrust hard and quick, and the first time Cas made a _sound,_ Dean stuffed three fingers into his mouth to shut him up.

Cas pushed back, trying to break free, knowing it was no use. But Cas didn’t truly want to break free. The struggle was part of the game and Cas _really_ wanted to play. 

He’d been raped before, when he was younger. He didn’t enjoy it _during_ but he had jacked off to it more times than he could count and now that he was a 6 foot grown male, it was rare when a person could actually pin him down and force him in any way. But _Dean_ could. _Of course_ he could. Cas had been stupid to doubt it.

He would ride his devil one day, _but not today._

Cas grunted as Dean fucked him hard, his body still pinned to the door and he was sure anyone who walked by would hear.

But no one bothered them.

_No one_ was coming to help Castiel and the realization had that familiar warmth pooling inside his stomach. _Could he really come again? So soon?_

Dean shoved his fingers deeper into Cas’ mouth to silence the groans, and when that didn’t work, he pulled them out and wrapped both hands around Cas’ neck. He found that thin line between choking and strangling and toed it as his cock continued to pound into Cas’ ass, which was surprisingly tight given the abuse Dean had put him through already. The rhythmic _thump_ _thump_ of Cas’ body being repeatedly crushed against the door was music to Dean’s ears, and he kept his eyes pinned to Cas’ beat up face. “So pretty when you bleed for me, angel.”

Dean’s grip around his neck had Cas struggling to breathe, which of course, had him coming so hard you wouldn’t believe it was his third orgasm in a couple hours... had it even been an hour? Cas didn’t care, because it felt even better than the last two.

Dean pulled out the second Cas came, still hard. He tucked his throbbing cock back into his jeans and buttoned them before walking to the sink to wash his hands. “Clean yourself up, you look like you just got raped in a diner bathroom.”

Cas wobbled on his feet before stumbling towards Dean, slamming him against the wall. _“No.”_ He growled, pulling at Dean’s jeans and dropping to his knees. He _needed_ to taste his devil. And he would _not_ take no for an answer. He pulled out Dean’s throbbing cock and slid it down his throat before Dean could react.

Dean’s first reaction was to strike Cas for the blatant disobedience, but _fuck..._ his mouth was incredible. Dean gasped and moaned, then relaxed against the wall for just a moment. He knew he’d take the control back soon, fuck Cas’ throat until he couldn’t speak... but for now... he chuckled darkly. “Like the taste of yourself, angel?”

Cas didn’t respond, just hummed and bobbed his head while his nails dug into Dean’s thighs so hard he would surely bleed. But Cas didn’t care, he _wanted_ to make Dean bleed.

The pain spiking into his thighs caught him off guard. _He_ was the one that _inflicted_ pain, he wasn’t the one that received it. His head snapped forward and he watched a single droplet of his own blood peek out from under Cas’ hand, and that was all she wrote. He came so forcefully he had to dig his shoulders against the cold wall just to brace himself, and some poor idiot took _that_ moment to open the now unguarded door. Dean’s eyes were closed in sheer fucking bliss, but he heard the exclamation of the man. Part of him hoped it was the waiter, so he’d see his old toy on his knees, eagerly licking up every drop of come that leaked from Dean.

If Cas wasn’t completely fucked out, he would have gotten hard at the sight above him, It was fucking _glorious!_ When Dean saw the blood, he released into Castiel’s throat so hard he almost choked on it and the blood... the _blood..._

Cas couldn’t think about anything but the blood and before he realized what he was doing, he pulled off of Dean’s spent cock and licked his wound, staring up at his devil’s reaction. He didn’t hear anyone enter the bathroom, all he could hear, see, taste and breathe, was _Dean._

Dean’s leg twitched when Cas licked him and for the first time in his life, he wondered what it would be like to have a true partner. Nothing scared Castiel, nothing turned him off. If he could ever take someone, mold them into his image... it was Cas. It was his angel. Whoever interrupted them left, and Dean pulled Cas to his feet and kissed him hard. Not in the possessive way he usually did, but in a way that would convey without words that what just happened fucking _meant_ something to him.

Cas instantly kissed back with the same intensity as he buckled Dean’s pants back up for him. A manager started banging on the door, telling them to leave and Cas pulled back giggling like a little kid. “You’re going to get me kicked out of this town.”

Dean grinned, a different kind of intensity in his eyes. “Put your damn pants back on and lets get the fuck outta here.”

Cas complied and washed his hands before motioning for Dean to lead the way.

They walked out of the bathroom together, Dean a half-step in front of Castiel. People turned their heads and stared, no doubt at the state of Cas’ face and their wrinkled clothing. Dean just winked and walked right out the door, holding it open for Cas. The endorphins were already starting to fade and he could feel the panic settling in somewhere in the back of his gut, but he staved it off. Once they were in the car, he looked at Cas. “Where am I taking you?”

Castiel laughed. He felt closer to this stranger than he had to any human before in his life and they knew _nothing_ of each other. They had never even been to Cas’ house. Was Dean even his real name? “Back to the bar for my car, unless you wanted to go back to my place.” Cas looked out the window with a shrug like it didn’t matter either way.

Dean knew he shouldn’t. Knew he should just leave, leave and not look back. But could he? “How bout we get you back to your car and we’ll see what happens, yeah?” He turned the car in the direction of the bar and started driving.

“Alright.” Cas sat there, coming down from all of the nights events and couldn’t believe it was all in the same night. Was it really just hours ago that he was sitting in the bar with... he already forgot his name. And then Dean had walked in, turning his world upside down again and Cas realized he didn’t want the world to be right side up anymore. He craved the _upside down._ But Dean would leave again... probably soon.

He would leave and not come back for months, if he came back at all. And why would he? Cas was just a whore, and with a personality as strong as Dean’s… his devil could have anyone. He could barely stand to be around himself most of the time, how could he ever expect anyone - _especially_ his devil - to want to stay? He sunk down lower in the seat, pressing his forehead against the cool glass of the window and in unsuccessful attempt to ground himself. He was dropping, and he knew it. 

Dean never let anyone live long enough to see them drop, not like this. But he felt the shift in the air in the car, it was all of a sudden too much - stifling, even. He rolled the window down and turned the music up, not recognizing what was happening next to him. He sang along to Led Zeppelin, a smile playing across his lips as he remembered that first night and the shirt that Cas wore.

Cas stared out the window pulling himself back to reality. He didn’t want Dean to see this. He couldn’t allow Dean to see this. He clenched his fists together so hard his nails dug into the skin and as soon as they pulled into the bar parking lot, Cas jumped out of the car. “Well, fun as always. Don’t gotta drag this out. Until next time, Dean.”

Cas practically ran to his car and climbed inside. He had to get home, but all he could do was grip the steering wheel and force back the tears he knew would arrive any moment. He was so lost in his own spiral that he didn’t even feel the pain from his ass and back that would surely make him walk funny tomorrow, if not for days to come.

Dean was shocked and not all that thrilled with the turn of events, but he guessed he shouldn’t be fucking surprised. He waited until Cas peeled out of the parking lot to go back to his motel, where he managed to restrain himself from wrecking the room again. So what if he thought he’d finally found a partner just to get rejected before he even said a word? His life would go on. It fucking had to, but now... Cas just made sure someone _else’s_ life was going to end. And _soon._


	5. Chapter 5

Dean left town before the sun came up. If Cas didn’t want him, fine, he’d always been better off on his own. Part of him thought that letting Cas live was a mistake, but in the end, it’s not like Cas knew who he _really_ was. He’d seen glimpses, sure... but there’s no way he knew the truth. Dean wasn’t convinced he’d be able to pull it off anyway, not when everything regarding his angel ended up the exact opposite of what he originally intended. So he drove, and drove, and _drove,_ until he could no longer keep the voices at bay. They were so much louder now without Cas, so much more urgent. And now? He couldn’t think of a single reason not to give in completely to what they wanted. Defying them had gotten him nowhere.

He spent the next several months building what he liked to call a nest. A place he could finally call home after years on the road, a place he could... _decorate._ He’d chosen the basement of an abandoned psychiatric hospital not 50 miles from Castiel. As it turned out, it didn’t take much to turn it into the perfect place to hold a victim for weeks at a time. It was basically a dungeon already, but by the time Dean was through with it, it looked more like someone put a bdsm playroom inside of a church. Whips, chains, knives... dildos and plugs. An old operating table with straps to hold down the... _feistier_ patients which proved to be helpful with his victims. He’d learned from his little adventure with Castiel that he enjoyed marking his victims, so he’d brought in a pot belly stove and an iron poker. But his crowning decoration was the cross he’d taken from the hospital’s old chapel. It rose in the corner like a totem, a reminder of everything he’d nearly sacrificed when he met his own personal angel on earth. He hoped that one day, he’d see his angel crucified on it.

It hadn’t taken him long to figure out how to steal electricity from the nearest business. As long as he didn’t use too much, it shouldn’t be noticed - just a shower here, a flush of a toilet there. He used the stove for heat and he was deep enough underground that an air conditioner likely wouldn’t be necessary. There was a ratty old mattress in the corner that he slept on, when he actually did sleep. Sometimes he’d be up for days at a time, the voices devouring him whole as he rocked back and forth with his knees to his chest. It wasn’t pretty, but anyone that was around to witness it died before they ever had a chance to tell the tale.

With a place to lay his head, he began adding to his old journal again. His father was big on always writing down important events, _nothing beats your own words, son,_ he used to say. Dean only stopped because he felt it was like carrying around enough evidence to get him the electric chair but now that he had the _Bunker,_ he figured if they found this place, he was most likely already dead.

The first time he hunted a victim after Cas, he knew exactly what he was looking for. Roughly six feet tall, dark hair, blue eyes. Bratty, if possible, but that was getting almost too specific. He’d settled for a guy about 5’10” with eyes so dull they were almost grey... but at least the hair and build were right. He hadn’t bothered with the pretense of consent with this one. It was quick and dirty once the man figured out what Dean was going to do to him.

He didn’t even get off.

The second time, he got closer to his mark. The guy even kinda looked like Cas with his face covered in blood. He’d kept that one for a while... James? Was that his name? And when he finally slid his knife between his ribs and ended it, he’d realized the issue was that these men weren’t angels. Not like Cas. As a way to bridge the gap, he carved a cross into James’ forehead and dumped the body in a church graveyard. The authorities had had a field day with it, wondering what kind of monster would do this and what it meant. _It means my angel is dead to me, that’s what it means. Castiel is dead to me._

And so it continued. Eight bodies in six months, seven of which were carved with the cross. Each one resembling Castiel. He’d masturbated with their blood and branded their bodies, he’d let them fight back and drugged them so they wouldn’t. He fucked them willingly and raped them as he killed them, but still. None of them quite filled the void that Cas had left.

Maybe he’d been right all along. Maybe Dean _was_ the devil in a thin disguise... because Dean was _certainly_ in Hell.

**********

Cas had barely made it in the door that night before he broke down, and he hated himself for it. He didn’t cry. He never fucking cried. But why was he now? He didn’t understand it. He collapsed onto his bed and curled into a ball to ride it out. His mind became a hurricane of self-torment. Why did he do this to himself? Why did he let Dean use him, let _anyone_ use him? It was one thing to know he was worthless, but to let everyone else know it too? And to _enjoy_ being used… that was something else entirely. 

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t eat. He had no energy to shower or clean up after himself. It was a miracle he made it to the bathroom most of the time. He’d never been closer to ending it all in his life, but something deep in his gut warned him that his life wasn’t his own to take. So, he suffered through it, trying to dull the thoughts in his head with whiskey, pills… whatever he could get his hands on while he waited for it to pass. 

Two weeks.

That’s how long it lasted. Two _long_ weeks of Cas feeling more depressed than he ever had before. There were moments he felt okay, but he ended up Googling drops and how long they normally lasted before he decided this wasn’t even a _drop_ anymore, just the cold, hard, rock bottom of his life.

He went outside to breathe once the walls began to close in and walked for hours, he didn’t even flirt with anyone. That was how he knew he was just depressed. But after week two, he became pissed at himself. Why was he moping around because Dean was gone? Dean was hardly ever there anyway. If you combined the time they’ve spent together, it was probably less than five hours. So, why did Castiel feel this... void?

After a month, Cas was ready to get back out there. But this time, Cas needed something _different._ He didn’t have a phone, never needed one, but he had a laptop so he looked up some local BDSM clubs and the rest was history.

For the following five months, Castiel was paid to be used and abused and he soon realized he couldn’t get off without it. But none of it was like it had been with Dean. The latest guy had the same look in his eyes at times, but he was more... violent for the sake of being violent. He wouldn’t get off unless he knew Cas was uncomfortable and he dropped after every encounter with him. This last time left him with rope burns on his wrists and ankles, but thankfully it was cool enough outside to stay covered up. He had two cigarette burns on his chest and a gash from a whip on his back before he finally decided he would never go back to that guy again, he was beginning to worry no one in the world would fill the hole Dean left behind.

**********

Dean couldn’t take it anymore. He needed those blue eyes out of his fucking head, like fucking _yesterday._ One way or the other, he needed to take his life back. The cops had been on a rampage trying to find him and although he’d been more careful than ever, he was starting to get paranoid. He needed to stop hunting dark haired, blue eyed men but the only way he knew how to do it was to get back to Cas.

He started making the journey back to Cas’ town and stopped to get gas in his Impala. When he was inside paying, he caught a snippet of a news story on the small tv above the register.

_“In local news, the body of a young man identified as Arthur Ketch was found in the cemetery adjacent to the Zion Lutheran Church. He was found with a cross carved into his forehead and holes in his hands. It is believed to be the work of the Sioux Falls Slayer, which brings the bodycount for this notorious murderer up to seven confirmed, but it is believed that he is also responsible for at least two others. This is yet again a desperate reminder to stay vigilant, especially if you’re a dark haired, blue eyed male between the ages of 25 and 34. The authorities still have no leads and are asking for anyone with information about the identity of the killer to call the number at the bottom of your screen. And as always, stay alert. These are dark times indeed.”_

A number flashed across the screen and Dean was tempted to call in a false tip, but knew it would be an unnecessary risk. He stepped forward to pay for his gas with his head down.

“Guess it’s good to be you right now, huh?”

Dean’s eyes shot up to the cashier. Did he know? There’s no way he knew, right? “Dunno what you mean, dude. I’m just trying to get some gas.” He handed the man a $20 bill. “Pump three.” 

The cashier rang up the gas. “Just meant that with green eyes and lighter hair, you’re safe from that fucking creep, right? You’re not his type.”

Dean blinked. _Of course I’m not his type, I_ **_am_ ** _him._ “Yeah, guess so. Wasn’t real worried about it to be honest, I’m just passing through.” He smiled awkwardly at the cashier and went back out to his car. He pumped the gas with a feverish impatience, rocking back and forth on his heels. He needed to get out of there, needed to find Cas and end this. Fuck his little makeshift murder bunker in Sioux City. Fuck the fact that he made national news for the first time because he let himself get caught up in a pattern... and not just a pattern, but a very specific M.O.. He needed this to be _over._

Cas didn’t watch the news. So it wasn’t until Dean’s seventh dark haired, blue eyed kill that he finally heard something about it.

He went to his usual coffee joint and flirted with the barista. “Back again?” Alec asked with a smile.

“Of course. Can’t go a day without seeing that face.” Cas grinned innocently, happy his wrists were covered so Alec wouldn’t ask questions. He got a free coffee, _again._ But this time, Alec went on break and sat with him. He had seen that bodies were being found, all young, handsome, men with dark hair and blue eyes, Alec just wanted to know if Castiel was being careful.

Cas borrowed his cell to check out the news reports and as soon as Alec called him the _Angel of Death,_ it all clicked. That wasn’t an angel... that was his _devil._

When Dean was finished pumping gas, he drove the rest of the way to Sioux Falls. He had no idea where Cas actually lived, but he knew his hangouts. He tried the bar and the diner they’d gone to and came up empty. He drove past apartment buildings looking for his car, remembering that Cas mentioned a studio one time. Still, nothing. He searched the town for hours and wasn’t any closer to finding his angel and he had no way to contact him, so he finally decided to give into his hunger and started looking for a place to get a meal. Not a half a mile later, he spotted Castiel's car in the parking lot of a coffee shop. _Got him._ He parked the car after doing a quick sweep of the lot and discovering that there were no cameras there or in any of the surrounding parking lots. He stepped inside the shop and spotted Cas sitting too close to someone else. It looked intimate, like they knew each other and it was more than just a search for a quick, rough fuck. Jealousy flared in his bones as he walked toward the pair, and when he was just behind Castiel, he cleared his throat. “This seat taken?”

Cas jerked away, then was annoyed with himself. He never showed Dean fear, which made Dean startling him in a damn coffee shop almost embarrassing. But he knew Alec had been sitting too close, and his Devil wouldn’t like that... _Why did it make Cas smile?_ What would Dean really do about it? He looked at Alec and the guy had been nothing but nice to Cas so he chose not to toy with his life... if Dean even was this... _Angel of Death._ In all honesty, Cas couldn’t be sure. Either way, Alec should leave. “Nah, it’s not. I’ll see you soon, Alec.”

Alec looked between them both and stood, touching Cas’ shoulder. “Okay, just be careful Castiel.” He went back to work.

Cas faced Dean. “What took you so long?” He asked, turning his face away again to take a drink of coffee.

"Had some shit to take care of, but I'm back now. Who's your friend?" Dean jerked his head toward Alec's retreating form. "You two seemed... _cozy.”_

“Yeah, you can say that.” Cas repeated like the last time, knowing Dean would understand. “Except that _friend_ actually gives a shit about more than just my ass.” Cas looked around the room and saw people glancing their way. “Look, Dean. People are scared right now and they’re all very concerned about the dark haired, blue eyed regular that’s being stood over by a tall, angry looking man. I suggest you give me a kiss - _like you mean it -_ so they can get back to their coffees in peace.” Cas puckered his lips in a bratty manner.

Dean's eyes flashed with momentary panic at the implication, and then he pulled Castiel into a kiss. His hands slid inside of the leather jacket Cas was wearing and slowly worked their way around until he was nearly lifting Cas off of his feet, claiming his mouth the way he'd once claimed _all_ of him. He held the kiss for a few, long seconds, then set Cas back down, speaking loudly enough for the onlookers to hear. “Damnit, I missed you, Cas. I gotta get a better job, being away from you for so long is starting to get old.” He smiled down at his angel, all genuine warmth and kindness. He could fake it with the best of them when his ass was on the line.

Cas grinned for a second and then rolled his eyes. “You getting something here or should we just go back to my place and... _talk?”_

He brushed his thumb over Cas' cheek - there was still a nosey old lady in the corner with her eyes locked on them. “I think I got what I came here for.” He leaned down and kissed him again, this time with both hands on his angel's face. He took his time, slowly breaking the kiss and opening his eyes.

“Okay, softy. You’re off the hook.” Cas said loud enough for her to hear.

The woman looked put out by the anticlimactic turn of events and turned back to her tea. Dean took that as a green light and led Cas out of the coffee shop with a hand firmly on the small of his back. When they were clear of the doors and the prying ears, he turned to face him, dropping the long-lost boyfriend act. “Do you have food at your apartment?”

Cas was almost disappointed, but only because he’s never really had that. Not that he wanted it, right? “Yeah, I have enough food. Follow my car.” He jumped in the car and led Dean to his studio.

Dean was a ball of nervous, chaotic energy as he followed Cas to his apartment. He had no idea what he was going to find, or do, or say. He couldn't kill him there unless he managed to make it look like an accident, but... he'd known that when he'd asked. He'd known he wasn't going to kill him since their encounter at the church. The pep talks he'd given himself over the last six months were just an excuse to get back here, to get back to his angel. He parked his car next to Cas' when they arrived and got out a little too quickly, like he was over eager to get Cas alone again. Maybe he was. It changed nothing.

Cas nodded towards the stairs, led Dean to the second floor and unlocked the door, letting Dean enter first. “Home sweet home.”

It was a narrow studio with relatively bare walls, just a Zeppelin poster on the wall near his bed and a piece of art that looked like blood, on the wall behind his small black couch. He had a small tv on a stand and a black coffee table with an old Apple laptop he stole years ago. The kitchen was tiny but everything worked, and he kept it pretty clean.

Dean made mental notes of everything he saw but quickly moved to the kitchen. His hours long search for Cas had left him starving, and he needed strength when it came to _anything_ involving Castiel. He rooted through the fridge and cupboards until he found what he needed to make a sandwich and threw one together quickly. It didn't occur to him to make one for Cas, so he didn't. He took a large bite and groaned at how good it felt to swallow something real again, then turned to lean backward against the counter.

Cas stood there and watched him. Seeing how starved he was made him frown. “Do you not eat unless you’re with me?” He shook his head and pulled out a leftover container with steak and potatoes in it. It was from a date, but Dean didn’t need to know that and handed it to him. “Eat real food, big boy.” 

Dean eyed the container, leery about taking pity from Cas. But beggars couldn't be choosers, and the truth was... Dean _was_ starving. He had been for awhile, but without having an actual job and when he was as deep in a paranoid state as he'd been lately, food wasn't always easy to come by. Nor was it at the forefront of his mind. He took the container with a nod and fished around in random drawers until he found a fork. He ate the meal cold. It didn't take him long to finish it and once he did, he turned to toss the container in the trash. “Uhh... thanks. I eat, I just... forget sometimes. Guess today was one of those days.”

“You still have that photo?” Cas asked suddenly, he had been thinking about it since that night.

But Dean just shrugged, “Lost it.” He lied as if the photo meant nothing to him.

Cas raised his eyebrows and took off his jacket - completely forgetting about his bruises - and walked over to plop down on the couch, giving Dean space to look around the room.

But Dean didn't give a shit about the room, his eyes followed Cas the entire way. He thought he caught a glimpse of angry, reddened skin when he removed his jacket but he wasn't sure. He stepped closer and grabbed Cas' wrist, inspecting it. Sure enough, it looked like someone had tied him up, something Dean himself hadn't even been able to do yet. His face contorted in anger. “Who the hell did this to you?!”

Cas attempted to pull his arm back but couldn’t, Dean’s grip was painfully tight. “Not you. _You_ were gone. Why does it matter?” He stared into Dean’s eyes challengingly.

“It matters because you're fucking _mine!_ He snarled, grabbing Cas' other wrist and seeing similar marks there. “Nobody is allowed to hurt you but me, your light is _mine_ to put out.” He dropped Cas' hands and tried to pull his shirt over his head. “What else did he do to you?”

Cas attempted to stop Dean from pulling off his clothes but eventually stopped struggling and let him inspect his body.

He noted the burns on his chest, the bruises on his ribs. He turned Cas in a circle and when he saw the angry red gash across his back, his vision spotted. “Take me to him, Castiel. Now.”

“I don’t know where _he_ is... but I know his house.” Cas couldn’t help but be curious at what Dean would do if he saw the man. “What would you do?”

“You wanna know what I'm gonna do to him? Come watch. We'll see how strong your stomach really is.” He picked up Cas' shirt and threw it at him before turning on his heel and heading back down the two flights of stairs and back to his car. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for the fun to start?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We usually post on Saturdays, although with the growing panic across the country, we're gifting you two additional chapters. Stay safe out there, folks. And enjoy :)

Dean popped his trunk and shoved his favorite blade into his jacket, then opened the hidden hatch where his spare tire should be and grabbed his emergency bag. He didn't have time to lure this guy somewhere else, he'd make it look like a break-in. He slung the bag over his shoulder and slammed his trunk, looking up to see if Cas had come down yet.

Cas got dressed quickly and ran out after Dean. He started down the stairs just as Dean slammed his trunk. Cas’ heart was pounding when he climbed into Dean’s car. “It’s on the other side of town.”

Dean tossed his bag on the seat between them and started his car. He attempted to clear the red from his vision long enough to breathe and ask an important question. “Did you ask for this?”

“Not this. He took it too far. He didn’t stop, even after my safe word.” He didn’t know why he was telling Dean this. But no one has ever stood up for Castiel, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good.

Dean closed his eyes. On one hand, killing this guy made him a hypocrite. But on the other? Cas was _his._ He was the only one allowed to inflict pain on him, the only one allowed to break him. He made his decision quickly, opening his eyes and pulling out onto the road. “You have a fucking safe word?”

“Well, I was supposed to, he picked it and then didn’t stick to it. He’s older and he paid me double for losing control but I decided I'd never go back.” He wanted to explain why, to tell Dean he was searching for anything to make him feel half as good as Dean did. But he didn't know how. “No one does it like you.”

“You left _me._ Not the other goddamn way around.” Dean stopped at a red light, the words settling around him like a death sentence. That’s why all of this was happening, why he couldn’t let Cas go. They had something no two people had ever had before, and right as it was starting to take shape, Cas had left him.

“I…” Cas paused, not sure how to explain it. “I thought I was doing you a favor.”

He kept driving, not being able to tell Cas the truth - how pushing Dean away was really doing _himself_ a favor. He couldn’t tell him how fucked he was over the thought that his protege and own personal angel couldn’t get away from him fast enough. He couldn’t say the words clamoring around in his head, about how he only felt sane when Cas was around, so he just didn’t say anything at all. “How much longer?”

Cas looked around, “Uhh... shit, we just passed it. Turn around and make a left on the first street.”

They arrived there a few moments later and Cas pointed out the house. “He lives alone and has a damn sex dungeon downstairs. It’s even soundproof.” Cas added, ignoring the thrill that traveled up his spine.

“Good, no one will hear him scream.” Dean blinked up the house, the rage on his face slowly melting into a mask of calm. His fingers closed around the zipper of his bag and he got out of the car, turning toward the house. “Get us inside, I’ll handle it from there.”

Cas walked to the door and knocked, fidgeting nervously for what Dean was really about to do. But he also felt so fucking _alive._

The man opened the door and grinned. ”Back for more, pretty boy?” The man instantly grabbed Cas and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. He slammed Castiel against the door, locked it and started kissing on his neck, making Cas feel disgusting. “Back up! I gotta piss first,” he lied, unlocking the door the second the man turned away.

Dean should have anticipated getting locked out. A shiver of rage and something close to panic spiked through him as he had heard the door lock, trapping _his_ angel inside that soundproof hell with a monster - but he should have known better. Cas was resourceful and defiant, not scared of anything. The lock clicked again before he even had time to formulate a backup plan.

He gripped the handle of the door and turned it slowly, but not to muffle the sound. He wanted this bastard to know he was coming, wanted him to put up a fight. He was going to drag this one out. When he pushed open the door, Cas was nowhere to be found and the monster that had touched what was _his_ had his back turned. He kicked the door shut behind him. “Where’s the angel?!”

Cas really wasn’t in the bathroom. He walked to the hallway and waited...

The man turned around quickly, “Who the fuck are you?!”

Dean chuckled darkly, stepping forward a little. “Depends on who you ask. I heard through the grapevine you’re a bit of a sadist, I wondered if I could hire you. What do ya say? Little two for one action?”

The man didn’t like the vibe Dean gave off. “You heard wrong. Leave!” He stood tall and walked closer. 

“He’s with me.” Cas came out from the hallway. “We’re a package deal tonight... _daddy.”_ Cas glanced at Dean so he’d know that was what the man made Cas call him.

Dean fake gagged as the man walked toward him. “Daddy? Seriously? I ain’t callin’ you that.” He stood his ground as the man walked closer. “C’mon, I want you to hurt me the way you hurt Cas. I know you’re curious to see if you can actually control a man like me.”

The man flinched, this was too good to be true... “Fine. Downstairs and by the end you _will_ call me daddy. You moan some _Dean_ name like your partner here, I’ll whip you, got it? He showed you what happens when he called me anything _but_ daddy, right?”

Dean tilted his head curiously at the man. _Cas really moaned his name? Is this how Cas sees him? Some... sadistic fucking brute with absolutely no finesse or imagination?_ He nodded once, and the similarities between them started piling up in his head. The dungeon, the demeanor, the sadism. The urge to overpower. It was that specific similarity that led him down the current path he was on. “How bout you whip me anyway and we skip the dumbass nicknames, huh? My life is full of enough of those as it is.” He grabbed his bag off the floor and turned back toward him, keeping his eyes away from Cas. “Lead the way.”

Cas wanted to punch the guy for that. _That_ was a fucking accident when he was trying really hard to come. He’d closed his eyes tightly and pictured the only man that could help him: Dean. 

Cas let the man lead them to the stairs and glanced at Dean, wanting to know their next move.

“What’s in that bag son?” the man asked. Before opening the door and moving aside, he stepped forward and touched Dean’s chin to look into his eyes. “You’re going to be harder than this one aren’t you? But you will cry. They always do.” Cas looked away ashamed and clenched his fists.

Dean’s anger flared at the thought of this man thinking he deserved to make Cas cry. He knew his eyes would betray the fact that he was anything but calm, but he allowed the man to tilt his chin. “Brought some of my own toys. Hope you don’t mind, I didn’t know what you had and what you didn’t and I want the... _full_ experience. Hate to break it to you though, must have faulty tear ducts or somethin’. Haven’t shed a single one since I was nine.”

The man chuckled. ”This one said something similar. I just happen to know a few tricks. Downstairs,” he ordered, making Dean and Cas go down first. When they finally entered the dungeon, the man grabbed Cas’ throat and crowded his face. “Didn’t think you’d be back, didn’t get to even fuck you last time once my toys were done with you. I _will_ fuck you this time, and your friend here will watch you cry before I even start on him.”

A wave of calm spread over Dean. They were safely in the soundproof room, and this man just proved to him he deserved to die. This would be the first time in his life he ever killed someone that truly deserved it, and it filled him with a sense of righteousness he didn’t know was possible. “Actually, _sir,”_ the sarcasm in his voice was evident, “there’s a slight change of plans.” He pulled the knife out from his jacket and ran his thumb over the blade. “I’m gonna have to insist you put my angel down. _Now.”_

The man squeezed Cas’ throat harder. “This isn’t what I pay for!” But Cas reached up and dug his thumb in the man’s eye so forcefully he pulled away bleeding.

Cas coughed a couple times before laughing, “You thought you were in control tonight, huh?” He tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes and then he looked at the blood on his thumb and picked at it curiously. 

“We’ll be taking a... _different_ sort of payment tonight.” Dean walked over to the man, who was cussing and holding his palm to his eye. He knelt down and swiped his blade across the back of his ankles. Blood spattered Dean’s jeans and his pupils blew at the sight as both of the man’s Achilles tendons were severed. He wouldn’t be going _anywhere._

The man fell to his knees with a scream, and Dean was right behind him, arms wrapped tight around his torso and his palm pressing into the bottom of his chin to hold his head up. “Look at my angel. I want you to know exactly why this is happening to you.” His eyes met Cas’ over the man’s shoulder. “I want you to know what happens when you touch something that doesn’t belong to you.”

Cas was smiling. _Why was the blood so beautiful?_ He wanted more and he wanted to be the cause. “Can I try?” Cas took a step forward and kneeled down.

The man yelled, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! I paid him, he came to me! Torture _him!”_

Dean ignored the man. “What do you think, Cas? Should we do to him everything he did to you?”

Cas nodded. “Well first, he bound me and when I asked him to loosen them, he laughed. Then he burned me with his cigarette because I said I wouldn’t scream. He tried to get me off, but I couldn’t… because it wasn’t you. No matter how hard I tried to picture you, _he_ wasn’t you. So, I was punished and whipped. Then fucked dry with a dildo and when I bled, he tossed me aside.”

Dean nodded a little, listening to Cas describe what the man had done to him. He made a mental checklist in his mind of all of that and more. “Cas, angel, do me a favor and figure out where this man keeps his smokes. I’m all of a sudden in the _mood.”_

The man struggled in his arms, but Dean’s hold on him was absolute. From this angle, he could see the blood dripping from the man’s eye, and he licked the line of rust-flavored crimson from his cheek. He snarled, letting out a tearless sob. “Let me go! I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you both!”

Cas went to go look for the cigarettes and came back with a pack. He pulled one out and a lighter and kneeled back in front of the man, lighting it up. “Want some?” He asked the man, who attempted to spit on him, but he moved. “That was rude.” Cas offered Dean a drag and then put the cigarette out on the man’s cheek with a satisfying _hiss._ “Hmm, that was fun... More?” He looked to Dean.

Dean used his grip on the man’s head to turn it and blew the smoke he’d held in his mouth directly into the fresh burn, making the man grunt and groan in an effort to get away from him. “Well, angel, I’m surprised. Didn’t know you had a sadistic side.” That was a lie, but Dean enjoyed the look of terror in his captive’s eyes as he slowly realized he was in for the worst - and possibly last - day of his life. “How many times did he burn you? I think we should take a moment here to undress our little gift, what do you think? Maybe the next one would be better suited a little _south.”_

Cas grinned at Dean’s comment. “I am _your_ angel, after all.” He pulled off the man’s shirt. ”He only burned me twice, but I think he can handle more. What do you think?” Cas stood up and looked around the room for the man’s rope.

Dean relinquished his hold on the man, knowing quite well he wouldn’t be escaping. He tried, though, on shaking hands and knees he tried to crawl toward the door. He left a trail of blood in his wake from his ankles and Dean smiled. “I dunno, Cas. He looks so pretty when he bleeds, maybe we should move on from the burns. I prefer a different kind of mark.”

“Fucking — you’re fucking psychos!” the man gasped out, and Dean had to give him credit... he still wasn’t crying. 

“There’s rope in my bag, Cas, if that’s what you’re lookin’ for. Let’s see how much prettier he looks hogtied.” 

Cas went to Dean’s bag and stared inside... this wasn’t some thrown together bag. Everything in here had been used before, and everything had a purpose. He pulled out the rope and handed it to Dean. “Will you do the honors, handsome?” Cas turned around and returned to the bag, pulling out a blade of his own, looking to Dean for permission.

Dean stamped hard on the man’s bleeding ankle and heard the bone snap under his boot. The man screamed, and Dean took the opportunity to force him flat on his stomach. In a few quick movements, he had the man the rest of the way undressed. He picked up the rope and tied his arms and legs together behind his back with one knot. “That’s your blade, angel. But I warn you... don’t kill him before I’m ready. If you don’t know how to use that thing or where to cut him, it’s better if you just watch this time.”

Cas frowned, “Don’t want to just watch. Show me…” Cas stepped forward, ready to learn with a determined look on his face.

Dean’s breathing quickened. _This_ was why he kept coming back... why he couldn’t leave Cas alone. He’d seen this in his mind’s eye and knew nothing else would ever come close. He nodded once, ignoring the desperate squeals from the man face down on the floor. “You said he fucked you dry and discarded you when you bled? Maybe it’s time he learns how such a thing feels to someone that ain’t actually askin’ for it.” Dean was already hard in his jeans, his cock pressing painfully into the denim. “What’s his name, anyway? God himself knows I ain’t callin’ him _daddy,_ although…” He squeezed his hand around the man’s broken, sliced ankle. “If you fail to refer to my angel as anything _but_ “daddy” from now until I change my mind, I’ll kill you. You got it?”

The man grunted. “Not calling that little bitch ‘daddy’. He’s a whore, whores get fucked! I paid him!”

Cas walked closer and kicked him in the face with the heel of his boot, smiling as his nose crunched. “His name _was_ Mr. Jones. Though, I'm sure it’s a fake name. And yes I said ‘was’ on purpose.” Cas glanced at Dean again and stood up, letting Dean see he was just as hard. He licked his lips and walked over, pulling Dean into a sloppy kiss.

Dean’s cock throbbed so hard when Jones’ nose cracked he thought it’d burst right through his jeans. His hands were covered in blood as he brought them to Cas’ face to meet the kiss, licking into his mouth and swallowing the sounds he was making. When he pulled back, he was breathless and crazed, his body feeling like he’d gotten electrocuted but the currant was still coursing through him. “Not such a little bitch _now,_ is he? You wanna try again to address him properly, or should Cas continue to prove himself to both of us?” 

“Fuck you!” He said, with less conviction this time. Cas chuckled and walked back over, blade in hand and poked it inside the man’s ankle wounds. “I may not know where to cut, but I can play with these, right, baby?” Cas asked as he looked up at Dean, his voice low and thick from desire. He didn’t know how much blood had gotten on his face when Dean touched him, but he also didn’t care.

Dean just stared, mouth hanging open slightly. Cas was exquisite; primal and bloody and _his._ The man started crying in earnest when Cas twisted the blade, rocking uselessly back and forth on his torso which only made the blade dig in deeper. Dean nodded his awestruck approval. “Yes, angel. But be careful, the human body can only take so much before he’ll pass out from the pain, and we don’t want that, do we? We want him awake for this.” Dean got up and searched for the man’s collection of toys. “Did he tear you, Cas? When he fucked you dry, did he tear your perfect little hole?”

Cas stood up and walked over, kissing Dean again. “Want you so bad.” Cas palmed himself, he didn’t understand why his cock was so fucking hard. “Fucking hurts.” He had forgotten what Dean asked him, he _needed_ some release. “Why is my dick so hard?” he whispered to Dean.

Dean had the strange impression he was floating as he slowly lowered himself to his knees. The cowering, simpering man tied up next to them would have to wait a little longer to die, because Dean’s angel _needed_ him. He slid bloody hands slowly up Cas’ jeans and nipped his teeth playfully over the bulge. “You’re just like me, angel. That’s why. You’re mine, and you’re just like me.” He took his time unbuttoning Cas’ jeans and sliding them down. He _savored_ the seconds it took to free him from the fucking green lace wrapped neatly around his cock. He dropped fully to his knees for the first time in his life, his kneecaps clacking in delicious pain against the concrete below him. His eyes traveled hungrily up Cas’ body until they locked on those ocean blue pools of promise, and took Cas’ cock in his mouth.

Cas could hardly breathe. He gripped the dresser they were near and groaned. This was the best blowjob he had _ever_ gotten and he wasn’t going to last long. He didn’t grab Dean’s head like he wanted to, instead he let Dean keep control and when he looked at the blood Dean smeared on his thighs, he knew he was close. “Fuck, Dean, gonna come. Fuck… fuck.”

Dean pulled off, standing up quickly to kiss him. “Not yet, angel. Fix your jeans, we weren’t done with Mr. Jones.”

Cas groaned and took a moment to breathe. “Okay. Mm sorry.” He fixed his throbbing cock and walked over awkwardly. “Oh, I… forgot.” He went back to pull out a big dildo.

Dean grinned at Cas as Mr. Jones suddenly got a _lot_ louder. “Y’know, I think we waited too long. His ass is so covered in blood from his ankles that nothin’ about this is gonna be dry.” He ran his palm over his bulge and nodded to Cas. “Go ahead.”

Cas walked forward and shoved it in without pause. “Ouch. It was dry enough.” He pulled it out and slammed it in once more, his cock twitching at the man’s screams. 

He kept his eyes on Cas’ face as he slowly unbuttoned his jeans and released his throbbing cock. He ran a bloody hand over the shaft and circled his palm over the head, his voice laced with lust. “Don’t stop till he begs you, Cas. And when he finally does - they _all_ do, eventually... use your knife.” He fucked into his fist once, sighing out a moan. 

Cas glanced over at Dean and had to palm himself to keep from coming at the sight. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot.” Cas continued to brutally shove the toy into the man with his eyes on Dean. 

Eventually, Mr. Jones quit making noise. His body went limp under Cas, and Dean walked over, reaching out to touch his angel’s face. “You’re perfect, Castiel. Put it down, he won’t wake up for awhile.” He waited until Cas set aside the dildo and pulled him into a kiss, all heat and passion and bloodlust wrapped up into a single act. His cock throbbed between them and his hand slid to Cas’ throat, where he squeezed tightly as his tongue claimed his angel’s mouth. 

Cas kissed back as if he was a starved animal, he _needed_ Dean, _now._ “Need you to fuck me, choke me with his blood on your hands.”

There were no voices in Dean’s head this time telling him to stop. Instead, the only voice he could hear was his angel’s, repeating over and over again _choke me with his blood on your hands._

He pushed Cas’ jeans down so roughly that the button snapped and clattered across the floor. Their victim was in his way; he wanted to get to the bed in the corner and fuck Cas into that mattress until he wept with joy. He reached down and grabbed Jones’ ankles, coating himself in fresh blood and shoved him aside. As Cas undressed, Dean kicked Jones’ used up, naked body and made his way to his _real_ prize. In a few quick movements that still took too long, he was bending his angel over the side of the bed and fingering him roughly. “Fuck, why didn’t you tell me you liked blood so much? We could’ve been doing this a long time ago.”

Cas felt as though he would burst with every movement. How riled up Dean was had Cas nearly coming. When Dean slid his fingers in, he groaned happily. “Fuck. I didn’t know. I didn’t know I’d get so fucking hard from seeing you with that bloody knife.”

If he waited any longer, Dean was going to come without even fucking his angel. His fingers left Cas empty for only a moment until he slicked his cock with warm blood and slid into him, snapping his hips. “Come for me, Castiel. _Oh, fuck._ Fuck that feels so goddamn good.” He remembered his angel’s request at the last moment and reached forward, grabbing him by the front of his throat and pulling him up until they were flushed back to front. He choked Cas and bit hard into his shoulder as he came, his vision spotting and his feet slipping slightly in the bloodbath covering the floor.

Cas was instantly coming all over the sheets the second Dean’s hand touched his neck. He should have thought about where his come was landing, but he was too fucked out to care. Dean coming inside of him had Cas feeling as though they were _one._

Dean stayed buried inside of Cas, thrusting weakly until his cock softened and slid out on its own. He pressed a gentle kiss to the newest mark he’d left on his angel and turned to face Mr. Jones, who was awake. He walked naked over to him and knelt down by his face, roughly gripping his hair to make the man look at him. “What you just saw, there? _That_ is how you fuck a gift like Castiel. You never deserved him.” He slammed Jones’ already swollen face into the ground and picked his head up by the hair once more. “I planned on making you suffer a little more, but y’know what? I’ve picked my teeth with the bones of better men than you.” He straddled the man’s back, sitting down on his hogtied arms and the man grunted and cried with the pain. Dean turned his head to lock eyes with the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen, and snapped Mr. Jones’ neck.


	7. Chapter 7

Cas watched his beautiful naked Devil in awe, and smiled when he snapped his neck. That _sound..._ that sound was amazing... and Cas just _knew._ “I know who you are Dean. But _you’re_ not the Angel are you?” he asked with a tilt of his head. 

Dean froze for a moment. He licked his lips and suddenly realized he’d just killed someone in front of a witness. Cas’ spend was all over the sheets and the blood... fuck, how much of it was theirs? He pushed the panic down and shook his head. One problem at a time. “No, that nickname... _both_ nicknames to be honest... fuckin’ stupid.” He stood up, flexing his fingers. “You’re the angel, not me.” He walked forward until he was so close to Castiel he could smell the mix of come and blood. “Are you afraid?”

Cas watched him walk over with a small smile on his lips. When Dean reached him, Cas didn’t move an inch. “No,” he said honestly. “I’m _your_ angel.”

“I was gonna kill you, y’know. In the church. I tried, actually.” Dean brought his hand up to Cas’ neck, his fingers ghosting over the skin. “I couldn’t do it. You were the first person I _couldn’t_ kill.” 

“I think…” Cas paused to lick his lips. “I think I knew.” He reached for Dean’s face. ”Why couldn’t you?”

Dean let out a breath. “Look, we need to get outta here. You wanna hear all about it, fine, I’ll tell you... but first we gotta clean this damn mess up and figure out what to do with _daddy_ over there.”

Cas nodded. “Teach me how.” He walked over and touched the blood, the feeling of it under his skin fascinating him. 

Dean rubbed his jaw and looked around the room. It was a mess, _they_ were messes, and Jones’ broken body was the biggest mess of them all. “Go upstairs, see if you can find some bleach. It’s probably dark out now, so we’ve got _that_ on our side.” He walked over and grabbed two pairs of gloves out of his bag and tossed one to Cas. “Get dressed but turn your clothes inside out, I don’t want blood flecks falling off your clothes. As it is, it’s gonna be fucking impossible to remove every trace of us but we’ve gotta try. Put the gloves on after - _not_ before, and make sure your skin doesn’t touch anything else until we’re outta here.” He followed his own instructions and then went over to strip the bed, balling the come-stained sheets up.

Cas complied, doing exactly what Dean said without question or making him repeat himself. He helped clean as much as possible and they were lucky enough to find bleach. “Shit. Is it always this messy? Or is this my fault?”

Dean chuckled as he started scrubbing the floor. “Depends. In case you haven’t noticed, I have a _little_ bit of a blood kink. Sometimes it’s quick and they hardly bleed at all. Other times…” He let his eyes wander over the room. “Other times, it’s worse than this.” Dean nodded toward the bag he’d brought in. “Pack that thing back up. Put the sheets in there too, if they’ll fit and take everything out to the car. Pop the trunk, open the spare tire hatch and drop the bag in there.”

Again, Cas complied, like the good boy he was. Luckily, everything fit in the bag and he put it all in the trunk while Dean scrubbed. When he walked back, he wanted to help more. “What can I do now, Dean?”

He gave the room another once over. “I’m worried about the bed, and honestly... this shit’s _too_ messy.” Dean stood up, pulling his gloves off and reaching into his pocket. He fished his keys out and tossed them to Cas. ”Take my car, drive it at least three blocks north. Keep away from traffic cameras if you can. Wait there for me.”

Cas looked worried now. “I don’t want to leave you. Is this the best way for me to help?”

Dean raised his eyebrows. He thought this would have been obvious, but this was just another reminder that Cas was an amateur. It wasn’t his fault. “Being my getaway driver? Yeah. I’m gonna set the whole damn house on fire, and I don’t want Baby in the driveway when people notice the flames. This way, once it’s done, I can sneak out on foot and we can ride off into the damn sunset or whatever.”

Cas nodded when he understood. “Alright, that’s smart. I’ll go.” He pulled Dean in for another kiss. 

Dean pinned Cas to him for a moment after the kiss was broken. “Cas... you ran off last time. Don’t do it again.”

“I’m not running, and I’ll explain why later.” Cas got the keys and did as he was told. He parked exactly three blocks north, biting his nails as he waited for Dean.

Dean still wasn’t sure if he could trust Cas or not, but he didn’t have a choice. He jogged up the stairs and out to the garage, thanking whatever higher powers shined their lights upon serial killers that Jones had a gas can that was actually full. He went back inside, rooting around in the pantry until he found a bag of salt. He took both things downstairs, dumping the salt over Jones’ body and the gas over the mattress, the body, and anything else that looked remotely flammable. He had no idea if salting a body really did anything, but his dad had told him stories as a child about murder victims coming back as ghosts to seek revenge and the only way to stop it was salt and fire. He’d done it every time he’d ever needed to actually burn a body, just in case. 

He only used about half of the gas, saving the other half for the main floor. He pulled a book of matches out of his pocket and struck one, closing his eyes and dropping it in the pool of gas near Jones’ body. He stayed only long enough to watch the flames spread and then dashed up the stairs. He coated the couches and the curtains, lit another match, and ran for his life. He ducked out the sliding glass door that led to Jones’ back yard and shielded both sides of his face with his jacket just in case there were neighbors. His heart was hammering in his chest as he hid in the tree line, watching and waiting for the flames to engulf the house. Once he was sure there wouldn’t be time for the fire department to salvage anything of the house or it’s contents, he took off north until he found Baby. He huffed a sigh of relief and opened the passenger door quickly, sliding in and slamming the door. “Drive!”

Cas drove, but not fast. He didn’t want any attention being drawn to them and the car felt _great_ to drive. “This is a nice fucking car,” he said after a while of silence.

Dean relaxed a little at the words. “Yeah, she’s the only nice thing I’ve ever owned.”

“Yeah. You and me both…” He was quiet a moment before asking, “Where are we going? Where was that church?”

He took a moment to get his bearings, he’d driven around Sioux Falls enough that he had a pretty good grip on where he was. “It’s about ten miles away, why, you wanna go back there?”

“Well we need somewhere to stash some stuff right? No one had even walked in that place for months before you.” Cas suggested, hoping he was getting all this right. He felt oddly calm.

Dean blinked in surprise. “That’s not a half bad idea, actually.” He gave directions to the church and told Cas to park in the hotel parking lot just down the street.

Cas did as told and once they were at the church, he looked at Dean. “Don’t leave me here when you go.”

Dean’s eyes searched for and found his angel’s blue ones. He shook his head minutely as he closed the door behind them, blocking out the light from the street lamps. “I can’t leave you, Cas.” He switched on the lantern he’d grabbed from the car and dragged the bag behind him as he walked toward the sanctuary.

Cas nodded and felt like he could believe him. He trusted Dean, surprisingly more than anyone else he’d ever met. He stood aside, waiting for direction. “I ran last time because I was dropping.” 

Dean set the lantern down near the cross and let go of the bag, turning to face him with a confused expression. “You were _what_ now? Dropping what?”

Cas huffed a laugh. “You’ve never submitted yourself before, huh?”

His confused expression only got worse. “What, like... gave someone else control? During sex?” He scoffed and tried to lie, but the words came out sarcastic sounding at best. “Of course I have.”

Cas nodded. “Right. Well, when you submit yourself, _truly_ submit? You feel as if you lose a part of yourself. I didn’t want you to see me that way.”

“Why the hell would anyone ever do that?” He squinted, realizing that without people that did exactly what Cas was describing, Dean would’ve never had consensual sex in his life.

“It feels great at the time. It’s freeing to just… release all control. But then, you have to find yourself again and it’s not always easy. I like giving you control. But I _don’t_ like giving it to others. I tried it, tried to feel even a sliver of what I felt with you... but it never worked.” Cas bit his lip. “Have you really never heard of the drop? Doms drop too sometimes.”

Dean let out a slow breath and sat down. “Honestly, I never thought to give a name to it. Sometimes I’d feel like shit after, but mostly, killin’ people was the only thing that ever made me feel better. The night _you_ left, though? Guess you’d say I dropped.”

Cas walked over and stood over Dean, cupping his chin and staring into his eyes. “I dropped hard. I didn’t want you to toss me aside, and I assumed you would. So, I thought I would leave _you_ before you left _me,_ and I dropped even harder. But it didn’t matter, the drop still sucked and I didn’t leave the house for a week because I knew you were gone.”

Dean was trash at this. Trash at feelings, trash at communication. But the reminder of how bad things got after Cas left made him want to try. “I broke my own golden fucking rule ‘cause I couldn’t get you outta my head. But I guess you figured that out, huh? Figured out my grand little secret?”

Cas nodded. “Yeah, I did. Tell me why you didn’t kill me, Dean. Why did you kill men that looked like me, but not me? There’s nothing special about me.”

The implication that Cas didn’t see anything special inside of himself physically hurt Dean. He pulled his angel down into his lap and gripped his face. “You didn’t beg, Cas. You weren’t scared. I... couldn’t bring myself to kill the light in your eyes.” He dropped his hands and lowered his gaze, his head tilting down. “I killed people that looked like you because when you left, it felt like I’d never be okay again. Like you brought some piece I’d always been missing and dangled it in front of my face and then took it away.” He slowly forced himself to look back up. “I killed ‘em ‘cause I was trying to convince myself I didn’t need you.”

“You wished you could kill me, but you couldn’t. Because we complete each other. This isn’t some chick flick moment, it’s just facts. Life while you’re gone is just one big drop. I looked for you in the only way I knew and so did you but we’re back now. Tell me what to do, where to go, I'm all in.”

The words settled into Dean’s chest like they’d always belonged there. Like his _angel_ had always belonged there. “We should leave. Get as far away from Sioux Falls as we can. I... I can’t stop killing, but the body count here is too high already. Will you come with me?”

“Absolutely,” Cas said without a doubt. “I’ll keep my studio so we have somewhere to lay our heads every so often. I can pay in advance for a few months before we come back.”

Dean nodded slowly, apprehension on his face. “Okay, but... you should know, we might not ever be able to come back.”

“I don’t care either way. Honestly. Just don’t want it to look suspicious. Or maybe people would just assume the killer got me?” Cas tilted his head and thought about it.

“Again, it’s not a half bad idea to keep the place. But there’s a very real possibility I fucked up and I’m gonna get caught. I let my emotions rule way too fuckin’ much of what I’ve done in the last six months.”

“Then we go down together,” Cas said as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

“No, Cas.” Dean looked up at him. “By all rights, Jones shoulda been _your_ kill but I did it because if I get caught, I don’t want you anywhere near this.” He reached up and brushed his thumb under Cas’ eye. “I didn’t spare your life just to have you go to prison for me. And hell, if they ever actually pin this shit on me, I doubt I’ll just go to prison, I’ll end up on Death Row. I don’t want that for you.”

Cas frowned. “Fuck that. No one chooses when _we_ die, Dean. _We_ do.”

He smiled, repeating something he’d said long ago. “Your light is mine to put out, and... mine is now yours.”

Cas maneuvered to straddle Dean in his seat. “Yeah? You’re mine now, Dean? Or… I have permission to wear your blood.” Cas didn’t _ask_ the second part, he _stated_ it and wrapped his hand around Dean’s neck, staring into his eyes.

Defiance and power flashed in Dean's eyes, but faded quickly. He leaned forward, pressing his throat into Cas' palm. “Both.”

Cas kept his hand there and pulled him in for a heated kiss. He was still turned on from what they’d done. “Let me ride you, you’ll slide right in baby. Still have your come in me.”

Dean’s stomach learned about twelve new moves in that instant. He nodded as much as he could with Cas’ grip on his neck. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Cas climbed off and pulled off his pants, his cock hardening at the blood he could still see. He helped Dean out of his pants and climbed back on, sinking down slowly and wrapping his hand back around Dean’s neck. “Fuck I love your cock.”

He spread his legs a little to help Cas balance and kept his eyes locked tight on his angel, smirking. “One of the first things you ever told me was that you loved cock. Now it’s _my_ cock.” He rolled his hips, fucking up into Castiel. “I call that fucking character growth.”

Cas started riding, huffing a laugh at Dean’s comment. “No other cock feels this way. Shit was made for me Dean. Ah _fuck,_ yeah fuck into me.”

He dug his back into the pew behind him and braced his feet, his hands tightening around Cas’ waist to lift him up. He bit his lip and looked down, watching Cas’ cock bounce as he drilled into him. “You look so fuckin’ good like this, Cas. Covered in blood and riding my cock.”

“All yours! Fuck, don’t want anyone else ever again.” Cas squeezed his throat harder and bounced and moved in circles on Dean. 

Dean’s eyes fluttered closed as his airflow slowed. He sat his ass back down on the pew and let Cas set the pace, his body buzzing with something entirely unfamiliar. His moan sounded more like a gurgle, and the reminder of all the pretty sounds he’d forced others to make over the years made his cock pulse and throb inside of Cas. ”F-fuck.”

Cas watched Dean come apart and his own cock leaked. “You’re so beautiful. _Fuck_ I’m going to come on your cock again.”

Dean forced his eyes back open and leaned further into his hand, reaching his own down to roughly jerk Cas’ cock. He knew he wouldn’t be able to form words at this point, but he knew _exactly_ how to tell his angel to come - he brought his free hand up and squeezed Cas’ neck, his eyes flashing.

It was Cas’ turn to close his eyes in pleasure, moaning loudly as Dean squeezed. He grunted as he came, unable to warn Dean before, painting Dean’s torso with his release.

Dean let go of Cas’ throat and dug his nails into his hip as he grunted and came hard, filling up his angel in the middle of the church that was once going to be his murder scene. When he was empty, he pulled Cas’ hand from his throat and gasped for air, his vision spotting. “For fuck’s sake…”

Cas moved in small circles and chewed on his lip. “So fucking good. You gave up control, you do that sometimes or just for me?”

“Just you, angel. Only you.” His body slumped a little against the pew, he wasn’t expecting that to be so... _exhausting,_ and Cas still moving had his dick already making feeble attempts to wake up again.

Cas leaned in to kiss Dean. It was probably the slowest, most sensual kiss they ever shared. There wasn’t any aggression, just raw passion. It was a kiss that spoke volumes and said all the words they couldn’t say, would probably never say. But that kiss... said it all. Cas didn’t want it to end.

Dean shivered from the unexpected intensity and broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Cas’ chest and curling his fingers against his angel’s back. He was overwhelmed by how normal he felt, how _sane_ he felt. “Fuck.” His teeth nipped gently at Cas’ nipple. “Could stay inside of you for hours.”

Cas laughed and kissed Dean’s forehead as he stood. “Yeah, if only. Let’s get some shit cleaned up here, go back to my place to shower and sleep and then hit the road.”

He frowned at the sudden loss of Cas, but understood that they needed to do _all_ of those things. He stood up, pulling on his boxers and jeans but leaving his shirt off. He stashed the bag in the basement of the church and doubled back to meet Cas outside. They stayed out of sight as they made their way back to the hotel parking lot and Dean drove them back to Cas’.

Once they were back inside, he thought about how much in his life had changed just in the few short hours since he’d been there last. “Weird how shit just... _changes,_ y’know?”

“Yeah, you’re telling me. I’ve honestly always wanted to do that, I just never did. But I was thinking about it more and more; I would have ended up doing it and then fucking it up and going to prison. I won’t go to prison, I’d rather die.” Cas stripped down and pulled out a black bag for their clothes. “Come shower with me.”

He’d never done such a domestic thing with someone else, but then again... he’d never done much of _anything_ with someone else. He nodded, walking with Cas to the shower and stripping down. There wasn’t a whole lot sensual about it, it took too long to scrub the blood from each other’s bodies and the water eventually ran cold. They got out, shivering slightly. Dean looked a little embarrassed. “You got something I can sleep in?”

Cas pulled out his largest sweatpants and another old band tee and handed it to Dean, watching him put them on. ”You look adorable in my clothes.”

Dean screwed up his face. “I’ve been called a lotta things in my life, I can’t say _adorable_ was ever one of them.” He shifted on his feet and walked over toward the bed, sitting down hesitantly. He bounced a little, a smile breaking out across his face because he didn’t think he’d ever been on a bed that comfortable in his entire life. 

Cas threw on the same outfit but a different band and walked over to sit on the bed with Dean. “I have the Angel of Death in my bed. And you don’t scare me.” He grinned. “How did them calling you Angel feel?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Like they missed the fucking message entirely. Why couldn’t they have at least given me a cool name, like The Hunter? At least then I coulda sang How Many More Times with some god damn meaning.” He looked around the room, his fingers twitching slightly on his knee. “You never really did explain why you weren’t scared, or why you’re so sure you won’t run off again. You made me explain why I couldn’t kill you.”

“The Hunter?” Cas giggled. “Yes, much more… _macho,”_ he teased, and reached for Dean’s hand. “You don’t scare me because I’ve seen your soul and deep down, you don’t want to hurt me. You hurt me for pleasure but you killed that man today because he hurt me. You protected me. _Why_ would I ever leave the only person to ever give a damn about my safety? I told you, I don’t have a family because I’m gay. They kicked me out at 17 and never once tried to help me survive. They didn’t care if some old dude tied me up and tortured me, because I’m _gay._ Their religion was above me. Yours, isn’t. I know you broke your code for me, and your code _is_ your religion.”

Dean laced their fingers, staring intently at the way they fit together. “I think maybe I’ve got a new religion now.”

“You do. And you better worship this ass every day.” Cas grinned and laid back, pulling Dean down with him.

Dean barked a laugh as he pulled the blanket over them, sinking into the heavenly mattress. “I think I can handle that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the extra double dose! Let us know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

A month later, it was Castiel who felt the _urges._ He wanted to take another life and he wanted Dean to walk him through how it would be when their emotions were aside and the kill was just for pleasure. They planned on getting a guy for a threeway, which was surprisingly easy in the gay community, so they made their way to a bar and began their first stalk as a team. “We have to agree on him, so what do you think of the man with the fruity drink and black dress shirt? You think he would be missed?” Cas wanted to learn how to read people and he had already pointed out two Dean crossed off the list real fast. Dean was a professional.

Dean studied the man and shook his head minutely. “He’s picked up his phone three times since he’s sat down. Suggests _somebody_ would notice if he disappeared.” He scanned the bar and was beginning to think they were out of luck when a man walked in by himself. He kept his gaze on the way he walked, as if he was trying to remain invisible. He had a simple grey shirt on and jeans that looked like they’d been around for too many years. _Maybe._ He turned his eyes back to his drink, wondering if Cas would notice him without being prompted. 

Cas noticed him after he sat at the bar. He didn’t suggest him right away, he didn’t want to disappoint Dean. So he watched. He glanced at the man every so often and made sure not to stare. He was alone and he never once looked at a phone. Mostly stared at his drink. “I found him.” Cas mumbled his description.” Can I go make conversation?”

A proud smile worked its way across Dean’s lips. He nodded. “Very good, angel. Go.”

Cas smiled and stood, making his way over by the man. “Hey handsome, this seat taken?” He motioned to the seat next to the man and sat before he could respond.

The man looked startled, scared, even. Like he wasn't used to being spoken to. He shook his head and turned back to his drink. “No, no, it's yours.” He averted his eyes from Castiel and Dean sat back in his seat, watching to see how Cas would handle it.

Cas ordered another beer and glanced over at him. “Long day? You look like you could use a pick me up.”

“You could say that.” He relaxed in his seat a little and turned his body slightly toward Cas. “I... don’t get out much.”

“No? Why not? Guy like you must have a boyfriend or something.” He flashed a flirty grin.

He curled in on himself and shook his head again. “No. I don’t. I’m sure you do, though, so why are you talking to me?”

Cas laughed, “Why would you assume I had a boyfriend? I’m too young to be tied down.” Cas brought the beer to his lips.

“Because anyone that ever tries to talk to me is either taken or a psychopath.” He watched the way Cas’ lips curl around the bottle and added, “My name is David.”

Cas grinned against his beer and set it down. “Psychopaths huh? Crazy ex?” Cas held out his bottle for cheers. “I know all about those.” He thinks of Dean, the only difference being that he _loves_ his psychopath.

David clinked his glass against Castiel’s with a slight nod and set it down without drinking. “You?”

“Jimmy. _Boring,_ I know but I promise I can show you a good time if you let me,” he joked and took a drink.

David eyed _Jimmy_ with apprehension. “Look, I’m not... I just got out of a shitty situation. I’m not looking for anything.”

“Yeah, me neither. Would you rather I left you alone?” Cas asked, looking straight into his eyes. Cas gave the man an innocent, sad look. He had already decided he would have him… it was just figuring out how _willingly_ the man would come with them.

David knew he still had bruises covering his body from his ex. They wouldn’t make him seem very attractive, and he was also still afraid of actually having sex again. But this man looked... kind. Like he’d understand, maybe even take it slow. “Would you mind if we just had drinks for tonight?”

Cas smiled and nodded. “Alright. I can do one more drink. And then I have to drive home, I have work in the morning,” Cas lied. He was already bored with David, but he could play the part a little longer.

David smiled and it changed his entire face. He looked bright, almost happy. “And maybe I can see you again?” He flagged the bartender over and ordered Cas another beer.

Cas smiled back. He flashed his irresistible cerulean eyes at the man, “I’d like that.”

The two talked during that last drink as Dean watched on, his eyes glued to his angel. David got no phone calls, knew no one else in the bar, and offered Cas his number before he left.

Cas clasped his shoulder and stared into his eyes again. “Until next time, David.” And then he walked out the door, knowing Dean would follow soon.

Dean waited a couple of minutes before sliding off his chair and silently exiting the bar. He found Cas by the Impala and caged him against it. “I can’t say I’m a fan of you touching other people, even though I know why you’re doing it.” His hand slowly raised until it was wrapped around his angel’s throat. “Kiss me, before I do something we’re both gonna regret.”

Cas grinned, loving how possessive Dean was of him. “Yeah?” He kissed him and pulled away. “What if I told you he touched my leg? What would you do, baby?” Cas challenged.

He growled, leaning back in and biting Cas’ lip till it bled. “I’d make him eat his own hand.”

Cas groaned, his cock hard in his jeans and he rutted against Dean. “What will you do when he kisses me and grips my hips?” Cas knew he was pushing Dean but he was too turned on to care.

“I’d gouge his fucking eyes out for even looking at you, and you’re asking me what I’d do if he _kissed_ you?” Dean’s fist curled in Cas’ hair and pulled hard, exposing his angel’s pretty neck. “I’d sew his fucking mouth shut.”

Cas sucked at his bleeding lip before continuing. “What if he bent me over and fucked me in the bar bathroom?”

“I’d break _every_ bone in his body with my bare fucking hands.” Dean leaned in, his teeth latching around the skin on Cas’ throat.

Cas groaned happily, letting Dean bite on his neck possessively. “Show me this ass is _yours.”_

He pulled the back door of the Impala open and shoved Cas in, bending him over the backseat. In a few short movements, Cas’ pants were around his knees and Dean was looking over the roof of the car to make sure no one was watching. When he looked back down, his eyes landed on grey, faded boxer briefs instead of the pretty lace he’d become accustomed to. “What the _fuck_ is this?” His hands joined to grip the waistband and he tore the foul things right from Cas’ body. “What, you think because this has become a regular thing that you don’t need to dress up for me anymore?” He spit on his fingers and roughly stuffed Cas with two of them. “Keep fucking quiet.”

Cas laughed at Dean’s comment and groaned when he shoved his fingers inside. “Haven’t really done laundry recently, ah fuck!” Dean shoved in harder to shut him up.

“You want my cock? Then shut up.” He grabbed the tattered remains of the briefs and reached forward, roughly shoving them inside of Cas’ mouth. He added a third finger and then growled in frustration, pulling back to undo his pants and release his throbbing length into the night air. He no longer cared who was watching, he spit on Cas’ hole and thrust in quickly. Dean hissed from the burn but it turned to a moan as the pain and pleasure spiked through him.

Cas groaned behind the briefs, but complied with Dean’s demand as best as he could. He didn’t want Dean to stop and he knew he would if Cas wasn’t a good boy. He planted his hands and let his man pound into him, not caring that the car was rocking enough for people to notice.

It was rough and quick, with Dean’s nails digging into the skin of Cas’ ass as he set a pace so brutal it was almost punishing for both of them. He grunted, “This pretty ass is _mine._ _You_ are mine.” He reached below Cas and tugged his straining cock, his hand hot and unforgiving.

Cas didn’t respond with words, but Dean’s grip on his cock had him coming _hard,_ with a whimper.

He was Dean’s. Every inch of him.

Dean stroked his angel’s cock until he couldn’t hold back his own release anymore and pulled back, jerking himself roughly until he was marking that pretty little ass with his come. _“Mine,”_ he repeated. 

Cas pushed back onto him, loving how those warm spurts of come felt on his ass. He spit out the briefs and sighed. “Fuck Dean, yeah, yours.”

Dean smiled and pulled Cas back up out of the car, turning him around and kissing him. “If someone ever touches you again, I’ll hang them from the ceiling and bleed them dry.”

Cas groaned as he fixed his pants, not even cleaning off the come. “Good. And I _want_ to watch.”

Dean chuckled darkly and kissed him again, then closed the Impala’s door and went around to get in. They drove back to the motel and once they were inside, Dean kicked his boots off. “So, tell me about our next little toy.”

Cas stripped off his clothes and made his way to shower. “Come shower with me and I'll tell you.”

He watched his angel retreat to the bathroom and smiled to himself, following and leaving a trail of clothing in his wake before joining Cas in the shower. “I’m here. Speak.”

Cas started cleaning Dean as he spoke. “His name is David. He has an abusive ex boyfriend who made him cut all ties with friends and family. He’s skittish, which means it will take a while but I know I could have him eating out of my hand soon.”

Dean grunted his approval as he turned, letting Cas wash him. “You want him?”

Cas stood and met Dean’s eyes. “Yes. I want to wear his blood while I ride you.”

“Then he’s yours.” Dean leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against Cas’ lips. “I’d never deny you anything, angel. Now turn around, it’s my turn.”

Cas turned around and let his devil take care of him.

_Dean,_ who has taken the life of so many people before him, touched him so softly it was easy to believe he was harmless.

They towel dried after the shower and Dean poured himself a glass of whiskey. “We’re gonna have to go get a burner phone tomorrow.”

“For me to contact him? Should we get two so you and I can communicate?” Cas asked as he slid on some more briefs. “And we need to do laundry so I can get back in my panties for you.”

Dean scowled at the sight. “Are you planning on going somewhere without me? We haven’t needed phones yet.”

Cas tilted his head. “No, but I wasn’t sure how we were doing this. Will I never be in his car alone? And should we still try the threeway angle, or just work what we have going?”

His scowl deepened. “If he was hesitant about _you,_ he’d run for the damn hills if I showed up. It’s been too long since I actually had to lure someone in like that.” Dean took a sip of the whiskey and relished the burn in his throat. “You think you're ready for your first solo kill?”

Cas shook his head. “No. I want you there. You’ll just meet us there. I don’t want to do it without you, but I want to make the first cut.”

“Hmm.” He took another slow, steadying sip of the amber liquid and pulled it through his teeth. “Maybe this time, I’ll just _watch.”_

“And then you’ll fuck me and show him who I really belong to while he slips from consciousness.” Cas bit his lip.

Dean tilted his head, curious for the first time. “You ever fucked anybody, Cas?”

Cas nodded, “Yes. Why?” He frowned. “Don’t think I can?”

“You have a cock, don’t you?” He furrowed his brows at the implication. “I just meant you’ve never shown any... interest in it, apart from when I told you to fuck Mr. Jones with that dildo. But that was more of a revenge thing anyway, just didn’t know if it was something you were interested in.”

Cas shrugged. “I’m interested in it. I just love your cock so much I haven’t thought about it much. I used to top Alec from the coffee shop.” Cas admitted, not sure if it would upset Dean.

Dean had suspected as much and even though it sent a jealous spike into his groin, he didn’t comment. “You gonna fuck David?”

Cas walked over to straddle Dean and stare into his eyes. “How would that make you feel?”

He spread his legs a little to better balance Cas and leaned back, contemplating his answer. “This one ain’t about me, angel. This is your kill. You do whatever it is that feels right, okay?”

Cas nodded. “Then I'll see how I feel in the moment, but... I’d much rather fuck _you.”_

Dean raised his eyebrows, that was not what he’d expected from this conversation. “That’s an honor I’ve never allowed _anyone.”_

Cas moved his hips in a circle. “I’m not anyone. I’m your Angel.” He kissed Dean’s cheek and got up, walking to the bed and laying down.

Dean watched him go with a small smile playing across his lips. He wasn’t convinced he was going to let it happen, but if Cas looked _half_ as good covered in David’s blood as he did Jones’, he _just_ might. He stood and followed Cas to the bed and crawled in. “Guess we’ll see what happens, huh?”

Cas cuddled close, knowing he was probably the only living human to ever cuddle this man. “Guess we will.”

Dean drifted off to sleep with Cas in his arms and the voices in his head nothing more than a distant choir. The following morning, he woke up before Cas and decided to let him sleep. He got dressed, taking their laundry to the laundromat down the street and then picked up a couple of burner phones and some breakfast on the way back. When he returned, Cas was awake. He tossed him one of the phones and the bag of food and doubled back to the car to get the laundry. He set everything down and started eating. “Sleep okay?”

Cas sat up with his hair still sticking up all over the place. “Morning. Yes I did. You?” He started eating with a smile. “You let me sleep.”

He shrugged a little, biting into his breakfast sandwich. “You’re fucking grumpy when you first wake up. Didn’t wanna deal with it.”

“Can’t argue there,” Cas laughed. “Try fucking me awake next time, then.”

“Y’know what... I just might.” He finished eating and crumpled up the wrapper. “Wasn’t touching you with those fuckin’ briefs on though. Laundry’s clean now, so you’re fresh outta excuses.”

Cas finished eating and got up, sliding his briefs down and throwing them aside then walked to the laundry basket to search for a pair. “Hmmm what color....”

“Blue.” Dean leaned back to watch. “Matches your eyes.”

Cas bent over to search for blue. “You sure they’re here?”

Dean’s eyes narrowed and his voice took on an almost dangerous tone. “Where the _hell_ else would they be?”

Cas found them and stood up. “Geez and _I'm_ the grouch?” He rolled his eyes and walked away.

Dean had been worried he’d forgotten them at the laundromat and immediately felt like a dick, which was a new thing for him. “Cas…”

Cas had slid them on already and was pulling on his jeans. “What? Ready to go?” He wasn’t about to explain why that made him feel some type of way because he didn’t know _how_ to explain it.

“No, _I’m_ not going anywhere today. You are, remember?” Dean was grateful for the change in subject, he wasn’t sure he’d know how to apologize if his life depended on it.

“Right. Okay.” Cas continued to dress and then grabbed the burner phone to figure it out.

He walked over to Cas and kissed him once, hoping that would be a good enough substitute for _I’m sorry._ “I woulda gotten better phones, but we’re almost outta cash. I think maybe while you’re busy with David tonight, I’ll swing by the bar, hustle some pool.”

Cas frowned. “So we’ll be apart?” The thought made him nervous. “What do I do if he makes a move?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“You really think he’s going to?”

“I’d say no. But you never know how people are until you’re alone with them.”

He grimaced a little at Cas’ tone. “Yeah, guess so. Maybe just... don’t be alone with him. Go to dinner, then you guys meet me at the bar?”

Cas nodded. “Okay. I’ll have him pick me up a couple blocks from here.”

“Yeah, that’s probably smart. Again, just see what you can find out about him. We gotta be sure we didn’t miss anything.”

“I will. I already have my angle. I can sympathize with having an abusive ex. He already trusts me.” Cas shrugged. “I just didn’t want to be apart. But this is the best plan.”

Dean shifts a little uncomfortably. “I can go with you. Just... sit somewhere else?” That would be breaking his own rule about not being seen more than necessary, but he didn’t entirely want to be away from Cas either.

He shook his head. “Nah, get some money. I got this. Did you get two phones?”

“Yeah. Numbers already programmed in there, under _Devil_.” Dean grinned, hoping that would at least make Cas smile - something felt weird and he hated it.

Cas did smile. He never stayed mad at shit. “Am I under Angel?”

“Course you are.” He walked over, pulling Cas to him and running his thumb over Cas’ lip. “Do me a favor?”

Cas gazed up into Dean’s eyes and licked his lips. “Of course. Anything.”

He stared at him intently, his eyebrows pinched. “Don’t kiss him.”

Cas grinned and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Like that? Or…” Cas kissed him again, this time more heatedly. “Like _that?”_

Dean’s eyes closed and his jaw clenched. “Yeah, that. That one. _Don’t_.”

“You got it, _Sir.”_ Cas said with a grin in a joking matter, but he actually meant it. “Honestly, no other lips will do.” He touched Dean’s with his thumb.

He shook his head gently so he didn’t disturb Cas’ finger. _“Dean._ My name is _Dean.”_ He leaned in and kissed Cas this time, throwing in enough passion to hopefully fill the blanks of what he wouldn’t say - that _sir_ is something his victims call him, and not only is Cas _nobody’s_ victim, but Dean was able to be himself around Cas in a way that he’d never been able to with anyone else. It was _that_ kind of kiss. The kind that says _please don’t do this with anyone else._

Cas kissed back, matching Dean’s intensity. “So, when I was bent over the laundry basket, I was staring straight at the blue panties. I wanted you to walk up and take me, because I’m _yours.”_

Dean smiled a little because he _had_ to. “I honest to fuck thought maybe I dropped them at the laundromat and was about to have to go back and ask the lady if anyone had seen my boyfriend’s fucking panties.” He shook his head, his grin widening until he actually laughed. “I can gut someone with my bare hands, but god forbid I do something normal.”

Cas smiled and shook his head. “You’re seriously adorable.” His phone chimed and he went to check it. “Dude wants to grab coffee. Fuck, this is going to be boring. Oh also, he thinks my name is Jimmy.”

Dean licked his lips. “It’s still early. I could follow you? Make faces at you from across the room while he drones on about all the boring ass things in his life we’re about to save him from?”

Cas laughed. “Nah, Ima make him wait. We can get coffee in a few hours, don’t want him seeing you there and then again at the bar. You’re too handsome to miss.”

“Or, maybe you’re just biased. Doubt he’s gonna be lookin’ at anyone but you.” Dean turned and laid back down on the bed, the voices starting to get a little louder the way they always did when he was close to taking a victim - except there’d be no relief this time. This kill was _Cas’._

Cas could see something going on in Dean’s head so he walked over to help in the only way he knew. 

He straddled him and kissed him heatedly before kissing his way down his body. “I got you, baby.” Cas pulled out his cock and slid it down his throat.

Dean gripped the bedsheets around him and thrust up once, Cas’ name rolling off his lips. “Fuck, yeah.”

Cas sucked him until he was throbbing hard and then slid his clothes back off and climbed on top, sinking down slowly without prep. “Fuck!” He groaned as he bottomed out. “This is _yours,_ Dean. Only yours.”

Dean swore loudly and dragged his nails down Cas’ thighs, digging in until he could feel a few warm, wet dots of blood under his fingers. He let out a breath, relaxing under Cas. “Fuck. So good, ride me, angel. _Move.”_

Cas moaned and tossed his head back as he began to ride Dean, bouncing and grinding at all the right moments while his cock bounced against Dean’s stomach. After a few moments, Cas glanced back down at Dean with a feverish look in his eyes and he leaned forward biting into his shoulder blade… _hard._

Blood oozed into Castiel’s mouth and he sat back up, bouncing on Dean’s cock with his blood dripping down his chin. _“Mine!”_ He said back for the first time.

If the pain wasn’t enough to send Dean over, the sight of his blood on his angel’s face and the admission that Cas wanted him the same way he wanted Cas sure was. Dean cussed loudly and gripped his angel’s hips, slamming up into him and coming in violent spurts.

“God damnit.” He pulled Cas off him and dragged him forward until he was straddling his shoulders. Dean sucked his cock into his mouth, straining his neck to take him deep.

Dean coming to Cas’ possessive statement had Cas on edge, but him manhandling him onto his shoulders sent him over. It only took seconds of Dean sucking him for Cas to spill down his throat with a moan. “Fuck!” He gasped for air, nearly slumping over.

Dean pulled off with a moan and licked Cas’ come from his lips. He looked up at his angel still towering over him and smiled, his eyes fluttering closed because at least for a moment, his head was quiet. “Thanks, Cas.”

Cas smiled and climbed off. “Thank _you.”_ He laid down next to Dean, not bothering with clothes yet. “We should find you one too, baby. We could set them up together and both have one to play with before we skip town.”

Dean shook his head, pulling the blanket over them. “Nah, we can’t risk it. Might just have to let me play with yours, or let me make _you_ bleed a little more than usual for a bit.”

“Both. I’ll share my toy with you _and_ my blood.” Cas rolled onto his back, feeling like he could nap, but knowing he shouldn’t. He needed to scope out every place he planned on going with his _date._

“Hell, even _me_ bleeding seems to help.” He glanced down at his shoulder and chuckled. “Never took you for a cannibal, Cas, but damn. You did a number on me.”

Cas looked over and huffed a laughed. “Yeah, well, I needed to mark what’s mine too. We’re about to be apart, don’t want anyone else touching _my_ devil.”

“Most people just instinctively know to stay away from me. And the ones that don’t end up learning the hard way that they should’ve. I don’t think you gotta worry about it, especially because I’m probably just gonna sleep.” He rolled a little to get comfortable. “It’s been awhile since it’s been quiet up here. You need the car?”

”No. Don’t want the car driving around too much. I planned on walking to the coffee place he mentioned to scope it out.” Cas got up and went to clean up and get dressed. When he came back he kissed Dean. “Gonna go learn a little more about this town. I’ll call before he picks me up, you sleep.”

Dean hummed. “I trust you, Cas. We’ve gone over the details enough times... you’re gonna do great.”

Cas smiled, happy Dean trusted him. “Alright, see you later.” Cas took one last look at Dean and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news! We've decided to start posting this every other day now that it's completely written and the whole world is stuck inside. 9 chapters left after this! Let us know what you think, and thank you again to every single one of you that's taking this dark and twisty ride with us -- Ketch


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter requires both a preemptive "I'm sorry," and a "you're welcome."

Dean woke up when his phone chimed. It was an unfamiliar noise, he’d never owned a cell phone and this was certainly the first time it ever rang. He poked at the screen with groggy eyes until the message appeared from Cas. He’d made it to the coffee shop with David and would see him later. Dean responded with a predictive ‘thumbs up’ emoji and got out of bed to shower and clean his shoulder. He stared in the mirror after and noticed he barely recognized his reflection - his cheeks were fuller, less hollowed out from the hunger he’d grown used to over the years. Cas always made sure he ate, even when he forgot. His eyes had lost some of their steel glint, again... mostly thanks to Cas. He looked almost _normal._ He took a few minutes to shave his face and then got dressed, deciding to pack their things now because if all went well, they’d be taking David that night and leaving town by morning.

Cas had scoped the town for an hour or so. It was small enough that not a lot of businesses had cameras, which would definitely work in their favor. When he finally met up with David, coffee actually sounded amazing. He sent Dean a quick text letting him know he was there and then gave David all of his attention. _Yup, just as boring as I Imagined._

They talked for over an hour before Cas was ready for something much stronger than coffee, especially to stay awake talking to _this_ boring assbutt. He started to daydream about how that first splatter of blood would look when it dripped down his chest... yeah, his chest. Castiel would start there. He’d carve one straight experimental line across his chest to watch his entire torso run red and fuck... boner... Cas had to think of something else.

He was so distracted he didn’t notice the tall man who entered the coffee shop, making David’s entire body stiff and stare down into his empty cup. “You okay?” He asked, not that he really cared. 

“That’s my ex.” He said in a small voice, and Cas turned to look. The man was glaring straight at him and rushed over.

“Who the _fuck_ is this, David?!” He snarled. 

David was stuttering in fear and it oddly made Cas want to kill this asshole too. He stood up, Castiel has never been able to bite his tongue. “Name’s Jimmy. The fuck are you?”

That was where Cas fucked up.

Before this new life, Cas wouldn’t think twice about starting a fight in public and well, old habits die hard. Dean was about to be _pissed._

The man punched Cas, instantly putting him in defense mode. The fight was not pretty. David had jumped to cower on the side while Cas and this man he didn’t even know knocked over at least three tables. It took three strangers to break them apart and toss them outside. Cas disappeared in an alley before the police showed up.

He hid out a while and cleaned up in a McDonald’s bathroom before walking to the bar. He had a bruise on his cheek and forehead, a busted lip and a cut on his eyebrow, _cool._

When he walked in the bar, he looked around for his Devil, hoping he wouldn’t be too angry.

Dean was leaning over the pool table with his eye on the 8 ball. One more shot, and he’d be a helluva lot richer. He heard the door open and the smell of dried blood reached his nose. Just as he was about to take his shot, his eyes caught sight of Castiel. He was bloody and bruised, and the momentary distraction his anger and thickening cock caused resulted in him missing the 8 ball entirely. He threw his cue stick down and ignored the wild cheer of the man he’d been playing as he walked to his angel. “What the _fuck_ happened?!”

Cas frowned, looking around the bar and the few people near them. They all turned to watch Dean’s little scene and Cas didn’t want anymore attention drawn to them. “Outside.” He turned and went by Baby to wait for Dean.

Dean followed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His mind was whirling and he didn’t think he’d ever been more nervous in his life. “Speak.”

“Fucking David’s boyfriend showed up and punched me in the face. So we fought. In fucking public.” Cas ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck, what do I do?!” He looked around nervously.

Dean saw red. And not the red coating his angel’s eyebrow, but the blood of not one but _two_ bodies washing over his hands. “We take them fucking both. Get in the fucking car.”

Cas was completely surprised but not about to argue with Dean. He climbed inside and took a moment to check out his split knuckles. “David has texted me multiple times, apologizing. I haven’t responded.”

“Call him. Now. Find out where he is. Say whatever the fuck you need to say.” His jaw was set and the path before them was clear in his mind. He knew he should be more careful than this, but the thought of having an extra body - someone Dean could actually kill - was a strong enough motivator that he didn’t care how risky it was. It had been _too_ long. “See if you can find out where the ex is.”

Cas sighed and called David, saying it was okay and that his ex is an asshole. David was more than willing to meet up again, he wanted to thank Cas in person for kicking his ex's ass. Cas wasn’t exactly sure how to ask about the ex so he went with a quick, _where exactly does he live so I don’t have to run into him again_ spiel and it worked. He gave the address without question.

Dean muttered something about David being a gullible, stupid idiot and started driving back to the motel. When Cas was off the phone, Dean spoke. “It’s late. We sleep on it, and tomorrow... we take them both.”

Cas nodded and made his way into the motel. He walked to the bathroom to assess all the damage. David’s ex was bigger than Cas, but Cas was faster so he didn’t do half the damage he would have been able to do if Cas hadn’t been in his fair share of fights. He took off his shirt and saw light bruising on his body. “Can I cut this one too?”

“No.” Dean's eyes were glued to his angel's body. “No, that bastard's _mine.”_ He walked over and kissed Cas, his fingertips trailing over the bruises. “You have no idea how seeing you like this makes me feel.”

“Does it make you feel good?” Cas moved to look into Dean’s eyes. “Does it make you think of all the things you wanted to do to me?” He asked, genuinely curious.

The answer to that question was... complicated. On one hand, yes - it reminded Dean of all the ways he’d wanted to break Castiel when they’d met. But _now?_ He shook his head. “No, Cas. It doesn’t make me feel good, but gutting the son of a bitch that did this to you _will._ How many times do I gotta tell you that your light is _mine_ to put out?”

“I know.” Cas watched as Dean inspected his body, wondering if _this_ was love. It definitely wasn’t what love looked like in movies. But Cas... he’s never seen that in real life. So, this is what it had to be... at least for them. And that was okay. He reached out and gripped Dean’s throat, forcing him to make eye contact again. “And yours is _mine.”_

Some of the pent up anger swirling around in Dean’s chest like a hurricane dissipated when he realized that Cas came back. Maybe on some level, he was worried that anyone that hurt Cas would be a suitable substitute for Dean. Maybe one day Cas would realize Dean offered nothing but pain and that pain was easily reproduced elsewhere, without the thought of a death sentence. But he’d come _back._ He stared into Cas’ eyes and nodded as much as he could with Cas’ broad hand expanding over his neck. “Only yours.” He pressed forward against Cas’ hand until their lips met and he reveled in the feeling. He stepped forward, forcing Cas backward until they were hitting the wall. 

Cas smiled when his back hit the wall and he parted his lips for Dean to deepen the kiss. It was easy in moments like this to feel... normal? Not that Dean or Castiel knew anything _about_ normal. But regardless, it felt like something neither of them had experienced before.

Dean slowly sank down, biting each one of the bruises. “You made me lose, y'know.” He bit hard on Cas' hip bone and tugged down his jeans.

Cas bit his lip. “Did I? _Everything?”_ He asked concerned. They really needed that fucking money.

“Not all of it, but... enough of it.” His mouth grazed over those blue panties and if his cock didn't love the way they looked on Cas so much, he'd have ripped them off with his teeth. But those were the only blue ones, and Dean came a little undone at the way Cas' eyes matched them.

Cas watched Dean as he kneeled before him, still unable to believe this man actually cared for him. Not for what he could do for him, for _him._ “I know how to get us some money fast. But you won’t like it.”

Dean paused, his tongue stretching out and just about to lick over the lace trapping Cas' cock. His eyes slowly rose as his hands tightened painfully around Cas' waist. “I'm about to suck you off and you wanna suggest letting other people fuck you for money?”

Cas knew he fucked up. “No! No. I don’t want to. I just... want to help.” And he meant it. “Just forget I said anything.”

He rose to his feet. “Take off those panties before I ruin them. Go sit on the bed facing forward, I’ll be right back.” Dean disappeared out to the car and came back a few moments later with rope and handcuffs he’d gotten out of the trunk. He saw that Cas was naked, presenting himself exactly as Dean had asked. This did little to comfort Dean, however. The voices were louder than hell and he needed - _needed_ \- the control this was about to bring him. He didn’t care if Cas gave up that control willingly or not. He climbed up onto the bed with the rope between his teeth and handcuffed Cas’ wrists together behind his back. He laid Cas down, fashioning a type of noose around his neck and securing it to the headboard. With anyone else, he’d have continued without a word. But this was Cas, and _all_ the rules were different. “Pick a safeword.”

Ever since Mr. Jones, Castiel didn’t enjoy the idea of being bound. He hated releasing all control, but he could feel his devil needed it. He hoped Dean couldn’t feel the shift in him as he wiggled in his restraints. “Um... Poughkeepsie.”

Dean didn’t miss the change in Cas’ voice. “I know you don’t have a damn reason to trust me on this, but use it if you need it. I’ll stop.” He slid off the bed and got undressed, then climbed back up between Cas’ legs with a bottle of lube and a knife. His voice took on a steel tone as he raked his nails up Cas’ thighs. “Seems you need a reminder of who you belong to, angel. I’m not gonna make you beg for my cock ‘cause I know you won’t, but I _am_ gonna make you work for it.” He popped open the lid on the lube and squirted some on his fingers before quickly stuffing two of them inside of Cas.

Cas just nodded, this was a punishment. He knew he would have to be punished occasionally, this time though, he really did just want to help their money situation. He knew Dean didn’t want to share for pleasure, but now he knew Dean wouldn’t share _period._ He wouldn’t offer again. 

He groaned when Dean slid in his fingers and closed his eyes, giving Dean all control.

Dean worked him open slowly, methodically. There was nothing rough about it, which he knew would eventually frustrate Cas. That was the goal.

Cas tried to stay still and be a good boy, but the slow pace was killing him. “Fuck... come on Dean.”

Dean pulled his fingers out and clicked his tongue. “Guess I need to teach you patience all over again.” He picked the knife up from the bed and slid his thumb over the sharpened edge of the blade, the hint of a dangerous smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He dragged the blade over the inside of Castiel's thigh, careful not to cut his artery and watched with lust blown eyes as the blood cascaded down to his groin. “Now be a good boy or I'll do it again, you understand?” He set the knife down and began stroking his own cock, punching out guttural moans at the sight.

Cas’ eyes fluttered closed at the sting. “I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” But he wanted more, that sting of the knife sliding down his thigh had his cock swelling. 

Dean hummed appreciatively at Cas’ compliance. “I know you will, angel. You just need reminding sometimes.” He pulled his hand from his straining length and pushed three fingers into Cas again, once more working him open slowly. “So tight, Cas. Even after all the times I’ve torn you apart, you’re still so _tight.”_

Cas moaned at the return of Dean’s fingers. “Yours. Only yours Dean.” He slid slightly so the rope tightened on his neck and groaned in pleasure.

“So fuckin’ perfect, Cas.” His eyes were torn between the perfect crimson running over his angel’s thigh and the look of pure bliss on his face as he choked himself on that rope. “You want my cock, angel?” He pulls his fingers out and lines the tip of his cock up with Cas’ hole. “Come get it.”

“Yes.” He whispered before pushing back onto Dean’s cock. He was the perfect distance away for Cas to be able to move and breath slightly.

Dean thrust in deep once with a moan, pulling out slowly inch by inch until just the head of his cock was trapped inside that tight ring. “C’mon, Cas. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

Cas whimpered when Dean dug into the cut, it fucking stung and he had to close his eyes tightly to fight off his impending tears. _No... I won’t fucking cry!_ He thought to himself. _I won’t let Dean down!_ But it was all becoming too much at once.

The sting from his cut, the assault on his hole and his oxygen being cut off, it was all just... _so_ much! Cas coughed and shoved back again, wanting to make Dean proud but he began seeing stars.

_Everybody has a breaking point. Even the angel, you just couldn’t find it before._ He reached forward and gripped Cas’ cock, stroking violently as he began to snap his hips in earnest. His thumb never left the gash on Cas’ leg, and he considered adding a matching one to the other. “You warned me you were a _whore.”_

Cas had tears leaking from his eyes as Dean pounded into him and his arms ached below him. He didn’t want to say it, but his survival instincts began to kick in, he squirmed up to try and loosen the rope around his neck long enough to catch his breath but Dean gripped his hips, pulling him back down and slamming in again. “...keep...sie.” He grunted, hoping Dean understood as his world began fading to black.

_Keep see? What the…_ His ears were ringing and his body was pulsing with the need for blood but something about those words gave him pause. Dean’s grip loosened as he saw Cas’ eyes tear stained and rolling back into his head, and it clicked. “Keepsie - Poughkeepsie? Fuck!” Dean pulled out quickly, the voices going silent as he freed Cas from the noose and rolled him onto his side to uncuff him. “Cas? Angel? Baby!” He threw the cuffs aside and rolled Cas into his back again, looking at him with wide, fearful eyes.

Cas didn’t gasp for air until Dean had him on his back, he coughed, gagged and tried to sit up, flinching away from Dean. It wasn’t that he was _scared_ of Dean. But that wasn’t Dean, that was the _devil._ Cas scrambled up so his back was to the headboard as he rubbed his neck, unable to meet Dean’s gaze.

Shame and terror worked their way through Dean. After all this time, he _almost_ killed Cas and it wasn’t even on purpose. It had been almost a year since their encounter at the church. They’d slept together, killed together, raped together, and hunted together - and yet, Dean nearly killed him. He slowly got off the bed and rummaged around, finding some salve and a bandaid in the bottom of one of their bags. He came back, gingerly cleaning and bandaging the cut on Cas’ thigh, remaining silent.

Cas fought the urge to flinch away again and let Dean clean his leg. He finally met his gaze, but still didn’t know what to say. He was sure it would hurt to speak anyway.

Cas was torn with how to feel. Part of him was nervous, even that first night in the church, the Devil hadn’t really come out, so why did he today? The other part felt as though he disappointed Dean and should have tried to hold on longer.

For the second time in his life, Dean wanted to say sorry, knew he _should_ say he was sorry - but the words still wouldn’t come. When Cas’ thigh was patched up, he gently took Cas’ hands and applied some of the salve to his wrists, and then put some on his fingertips and held them out near Cas’ neck in a silent request for permission.

Cas bore his neck for Dean. Regardless, he still trusted him. Maybe Dean would never say certain phrases like _sorry_ or _love_ but Cas still felt them. He couldn’t deny that. Once Dean was done, Cas got up and limped to the bathroom to clean up more, still unable to find the words.

Dean let him go, giving him space. He ran it over in his mind trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. Was it the knife? The handcuffs? The rope? Was it just... _him?_

He waited several minutes and eventually went to go get Cas. He stepped behind him and turned him slowly, trying not to make any sudden movements. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead and then led him back to bed, crawling in with him and opening his arms in an invitation. “Come here, Cas. Please.”

Cas took a deep breath and climbed into bed with Dean. They didn’t talk that night, there just weren’t words to say but eventually, they both fell asleep.

He woke up first the next day and got out of bed, making his way towards the bathroom to check out his injuries. He tried not to, but was still limping.

“Still not talking to me?”

Cas made his way back to the bed and sat down. “I wasn’t _not_ talking to you. I just needed some time to process. I’m sorry if I let you down with the safe word.” Cas averted his gaze.

“Let me down?” That was the _last_ thing Dean expected to have been the issue. “Cas, I told you... if you need it, use it. I meant it, I knew I was... kinda outta control. I’m honestly impressed it took you so long.”

“I just didn’t want to let you down. I knew the Devil needed to play. And I’m okay with that. I just didn’t know how far you would have gone if I didn’t speak up. Would you have killed me?” Cas’ eyes locked with Dean’s.

The question made him uncomfortable, but deep down, he knew the answer. “No. But by the time I was done, you might’ve asked for it. You’re not the one I should be playin’ with like that, Cas. I ... I _need_ you.”

Cas nodded and reached for Dean’s hand. “I need you too.” He rubbed his throat, the mark from the rope was visible but not too bad.

“You in the mood to take these guys today or should we... I dunno. Do something normal for a change? Go after them tomorrow?”

Cas looked at his thigh. “I dunno, I want to today but I also don’t want to have such a big weak spot on my leg. I can't even walk without limping.” Cas laid back on the bed with a sigh, rolling to face Dean.

Dean shook his head. “We can wait. I’ll go get some food, okay? You stay here, maybe…” He looked at the tv. “Maybe figure out how to use that thing?”

Cas nodded. “Sounds good. Can you grab some gatorade too?” 

“Yeah, course I can, angel. I’ll be back, okay?” He got dressed quickly and reminded Cas to call if he needed anything else, then left.

Cas smiled and easily fell right back to sleep, feeling better than before. He just needed to know Dean didn’t _want_ to kill him.

A short while later, Dean returned with breakfast and one of every single flavor of Gatorade because he’d forgotten to ask and Cas hadn’t responded to the text he’d sent. He carried the bags inside in a single trip, his arms straining as he opened the door noisily and set everything down.

Cas jumped awake and looked around. “Shit. I fell back to sleep.” He ran a hand through his hair and stood up to go check out what Dean brought.

Dean chuckled at Cas’ hair. “Morning, sunshine. I uh... didn’t know what flavor you wanted.” He sort of just stared at the dozen bottles he bought.

Cas laughed, loudly. ”That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he joked. “And orange, always orange.”

Dean eyed him warily. “That’s sad, angel.” He handed Cas an orange Gatorade and chose a blue one for himself, then nudged the bag of food toward Cas. “I take it you didn’t figure out the TV, huh?”

“I didn’t try. I laid back and then woke up to you coming home. Don’t remember anything in between.” He shrugged and took a long drink.

Dean turned on the tv and sat down, angling the remote to try and get a better look at the controls. He could count on one hand the amount of times he’d ever watched tv in his life, but he assumed it couldn’t be _that_ difficult to operate. The channel defaulted to news, and once again, they were talking about him.

_“The notorious Sioux Falls Slayer, known by some as the Angel of Death, is still at large. Local authorities state they still have no suspects, but have reported that they are diligently following every lead and the FBI has been called in. It has been just over a month since the the Slayer’s last victim was found, and the authorities warn that he may be ready to take another victim if he hasn’t already. Stay alert.”_

Dean switched channels with a scowl. “We’re not even anywhere near there. And what am I gonna do, go out and crucify someone wearing hot dog pajama pants?” He took a frustrated bite of his sandwich and kept changing stations.

Cas bit back a laugh. “You wouldn’t? Would their pajama pants _really_ be what saves their life?” He sat next to Dean but was facing him. “I want to put a mark on David. Not on all, just my first. Can I?”

Dean glanced down at his own hot dog pajama pants and shifted a little, hoping Cas didn’t see them because they’re ridiculous but they were clean. “Of course you can. I told you, Cas. This is your kill, and you need to find what works for you.”

Cas smiled and touched Dean’s cheek. “I like them.” He switched back to Dean’s pajamas. “I have bee ones I should have packed.”

He snorted. “Two of the most ruthless, active killers in the United States, holed up in a motel room with novelty PJ’s and enough Gatorade to hydrate an entire cellblock. What a time to be alive.” He took another bite and settled on a channel that looked halfway interesting.

Cas laughed. “Ever thought you’d have a... _partner?”_

He shook his head. “Are you kiddin’ me? I never thought anyone could stand to be around me. Kinda hard to have a partner when you’re a fucking psychopath.”

“I don’t think you’re _just_ a psychopath, I mean, even the devil was an angel. You were just made for me.” Cas shrugged and took a bite of his food.

“I don’t feel like a psychopath when I’m with you most of the time. I mean... I realize after last night you might not believe that, but right now?” He looked around the room and down at his stupid pants. “Right now I feel pretty damn normal.”

Cas nodded. “Same here.” They had finished their food and Cas moved to straddle Dean’s lap. “We didn’t get to come last night.” He moved his hips in a circle. “How about I tie _you_ up and suck you off?” He wasn’t about to try to fuck Dean yet, but maybe if Dean could learn to give up _some_ control, they could try that someday.

Dean was incredibly uncomfortable with being the one tied up, but he crossed a lot of lines he shouldn’t have with Cas and understood on some level that there needed to be compromise. He nodded hesitantly. “How are you gonna get off?”

“I’ll jack off while I suck you.” Cas tilted his head and locked eyes with Dean. “You sure?”

_No._ “Yeah.”

Cas smiled. “Lay back, and give me control, Dean.” He pushed Dean back slightly, staying on his lap and began kissing him.

Dean stayed propped up on his arms for a moment, but as he melted into that kiss, he laid back fully and ran his hands through Cas’ hair.

Cas kissed him for a while, making sure Dean was completely relaxed before he got up to get the rope. “I won’t start with cuffs, those are too confining, just your hands with the rope and you can still grip my hair.” He tied Dean’s hands in front of him and then kissed him again before kissing all the way down to his now semi hard cock. “Relax baby, you trust me?”

Dean reached forward with bound hands and gave Cas’ hair an experimental tug. It wasn’t as comfortable or fluid of a movement as he might make had he not been semi-restrained, but he still felt in control. He nodded. “Yeah, angel. Trust you.”

“Good.” Cas slid Dean into his mouth and started sucking happily. This was progress, Dean actually gave up some control which in turn helped some of the insecurities Cas felt since last night.

It didn’t take long for Dean to get fully hard and soon Cas could tell he was actually enjoying it. Dean gripped his hair a little harder, moaning as he rolled his hips underneath him. “Feels good, angel.”

Cas smiled to himself and slid Dean back further, moaning as he touched the back of his throat. Next time, Cas would make it so Dean couldn’t move his arms at _all._

Dean slowly released his grip on Cas’ hair and pulled his hands above his head as he arched his back. He squirmed, his toes curling as he felt himself get dangerously close to the edge. “Cas, I’m…”

Cas shoved him all the way down his throat, swallowing every drop he gave before pulling off and kissing his way back up Dean. He untied him and laid on top of him. “Was that okay?”

Dean nodded, wrapping his arms around Cas. “Yeah, fuck yeah... but you lied.”

Cas looked up at Dean, “How did I lie?”

He nodded his head down to Cas’ hard cock. “You said you were gonna take care of that.”

Cas glanced down, “Oh shit, I was too focused on you.” Cas sat up and pulled himself out and began to stroke himself. “You wanted to see this?” He bit his lip.

Dean hummed, rolling over to bite Cas’ neck. “Yeah. Woulda been better if you still had my dick in your mouth, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Cas groaned and bared his neck. “You’re right. Your cock in my mouth turns me on so much, Dean.” Cas continued to stroke himself, and Dean bit harder. 

Dean slid his hand down his chest and wrapped it around Cas’. “You liked havin’ me tied up, huh? Having control over a fucking killer?” His words were low and sultry, just a gentle reminder of all Dean was capable of with the hand now helping him jerk off.

Cas nodded and moaned at the touch. “Fuck yes. You’re _mine.”_ Cas started fucking up into their hands. _“My_ killer and next time I’ll fucking tie you up and ride you.”

He let out an involuntary whimper, probably the neediest sound he’d ever made in his life. He covered it with a growl and tightened his hand, speeding up the pace. “If you think you can overpower me, sure.”

Cas growled and pushed Dean off of him with a strength that surprised them both and flipped their bodies so Cas was straddling Dean’s lap. “Gonna come all over your fucking chest, don’t move.” Cas leaned forward and set a hand on Dean’s neck while the other stroked himself hard and fast.

Dean looked almost scared for a second but then grinned wickedly and pressed into his hand. “Fucking _do_ it, but you’re gonna fucking lick it off me after.”

Cas tossed his head back and came with a groan, squeezing Dean’s neck tighter as he painted his chest white. “Fuck…” He whispered before leaning forward to lick Dean clean.

His spent cock twitched and his chest heaved as he watched his angel. “Damn, Cas. Feel better?” He chuckled and relaxed against the bed. “The hell was in that breakfast sandwich?”

Cas laughed. “You’re cute when you joke.” He climbed off and went to brush his teeth.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are only two chapters in this entire fic that we're even remotely *truthfully* sorry for, and this is one of them. Do with that what you will. - Ketch

Four days later, Cas’ leg was healed enough that his confidence returned and he was ready to go. Dean pulled on a police uniform he kept in the trunk, smiling as he explained to Cas that he took it right off the corpse of an officer that got a little too close to the truth. The plan was simple, the stage was ready, and the trap was set. He kissed Cas feverishly as he twirled his handcuffs. “You ready for this, angel?”

Cas nodded, his heart beating loudly in his chest. “Yup. He’s more than willing to meet up. _You_ ready?” Cas leaned in for another kiss.

Dean growled into it and bit Cas’ lip hard. “I’ve been ready. I’ll meet you there, okay? _Anything_ goes wrong, you call me, got it?” 

Cas nodded. “Got it. Be careful out there. He should still have a black eye, make sure it’s the right dude.” He smiled and walked outside to meet David around the corner.

Dean waited and watched out the window until he saw Cas’ profile exit the parking lot in a car. He grabbed his bag and loaded the Impala, straightening his uniform before getting in. Cas had secured Eric’s address from David, so getting there was easy enough. He knocked on the door, his face hardening into what passed as the expression of a cop there to serve a warrant.

For a moment, nothing happened. Dean was beginning to think he wasn’t going to answer, but then the door swung open and he was met with a douchey looking guy with a shiner. _Bingo._ “You Eric Cooper? My name is Officer Heffner.”

Eric eyed him but nodded. “Yeah, don’t tell me that little overgrown twink called the cops on _me._ You see what that psycho did to me?” He pointed angrily toward his eye, and Dean bit back a smile. “I’d actually like to press charges on _him.”_

Dean nodded, his body relaxing because this was going to be easier than he thought. “I was just here to ask some questions, I’d actually clocked off for the day... “ he nodded his head toward the Impala which was visible in the fading light of day, “but if you wanna press charges I’d be happy to take you back to the station.”

Eric squinted at Dean’s badge, sizing him up. He thought with Cas out of the way, it would be easier for him to get David back. “Yeah, okay. Fuck that guy.” He grabbed his wallet and his coat and then joined Dean outside, locking his door behind him.

Dean led Eric to the back door of the Impala, using the excuse that it was simply protocol to not let anyone in the front seat, even in his personal vehicle. Eric seemed buzzed by the idea of taking Cas down and didn’t question it, and Dean slammed the child-locked door once he was in.

A devilish smile played cross Dean’s lips as he pulled out his phone and texted Cas.

_Got him._

Cas had gone around the corner and texted David, he only sat for about twenty minutes before he was pulling up to get him.

Cas played the victim role, using David’s compassion against him and after sitting and talking for a bit, David offered _exactly_ what Cas knew he would offer. “I know a place, just make a left here.” Cas led him to the warehouse and Dean wasn’t there yet so they went inside.

He sent Dean a text. 

_We’re here._

Dean glanced down at the phone on his seat and saw the message pop up. He grinned down at his phone, proud of his angel for successfully luring his first target. A quick peek in the mirror showed him that Eric had his face buried in his _own_ phone and wasn’t paying attention to where they were going, which was good because the police station was clear on the other side of town. Dean pulled up to the warehouse and slammed on his brakes, causing Eric to fly forward and smack against the back of the bench seat. Dean threw the car in park and used Eric’s fumbling, curse riddled disorientation as an opportunity to hit him over the head with the butt of the nightstick he’d placed on the passenger seat. Unfortunately, it didn’t knock him out, so Dean scrambled to turn around fully and hit him again with a sickening _thwack._

This time, Eric slumped over, and Dean got out of the car. He cursed quietly, fixing his uniform and glancing toward the warehouse. He muttered to himself, “Ready or not, here we come.” He pulled Eric’s limp body from the back seat and dropped him on the ground, then dragged him by his ankles toward the door. It took some maneuvering, but he managed to get him inside.

Dean hauled Eric across the dusty floor to the entrance of the bay where they set up and carefully looked around the corner, trying to see if Cas was ready.

David was nervous, but oddly trusting of Cas. “This feels like high school,” he whispered in an excited tone.

Cas had to laugh. “It does huh? Sneaking anywhere and everywhere just for a blowjob.” 

David cornered Cas in a flirtatious manner. “Is that what you’re hoping for?” He bit his lip, and Cas would be lying if he said his dick didn’t twitch slightly. 

“I don’t know, you said you were sorry…” Cas grinned as David dropped to his knees.

Just as David was taking Cas out of his jeans, he saw Dean’s head round the corner and grinned. Cas could see the pure jealousy in Dean’s eyes and blew him a challenging kiss.

Dean’s eyes narrowed but he did nothing, reminding himself that he told Cas to do what felt right. He looked down at the douchenozzle still unconscious at his feet and reminded himself that soon, he’d be able to take his frustrations out on someone that deserved it.

Cas let David suck him off a few moments, before he began fucking into his throat. David squirmed and tried to get away but Cas had a grip on his hair. Cas assaulted his throat for a moment before ripping him off and tossing him backward. 

Before David could speak, Cas hit him over the head with a pipe he had placed there when they prepped the building. Lucky for him, this weakling _did_ go down in one hit and Cas put his cock away before dragging David to the room with Dean and Eric.

“Drop him next to his fuckwad of an ex.” He ignored the bulge in Cas' pants and looked around the room at the nightmare they'd set up. Dean's best guess was that this place was once some kind of a meat packing plant, because there were hooks already hung from the ceiling when they got there. It didn't take a lot of staging in order to make it the perfect killing ground. He looked over at Cas as he pulled out his phone. “My first kill, I listened to music. Still do most of the time, but not always... just depends on my mood. What's your song?”

Cas thought for a moment. “Enter Sandman,” he said with a grin.

“Metallica it is.” He queued up the song but didn't hit play yet. “Let's get these bastards into position. Did you decide how you want to do this yet? I'll follow your lead, but we need to get them tied down before they wake up.”

They bound both men’s hands behind their backs with zip-ties and hauled David onto a table. Dean eyed Eric and then one of the meat hooks and grinned. “Help me out here, Cas. He’s gonna wake up and be all squirmy and shit once the tip of that hook breaks the skin.”

Cas smiled and walked over. “My pleasure baby.” They lifted him up and he already started to stir but he wasn’t fully awake until they dropped him on the hook.

Dean’s muscles flexed through his shirt as he controlled how quickly Eric went down. His warning to Cas to not go too fast went unheard over the sound of Eric screaming. “Cas, grab me something to shut him up, he screams like a bitch.”

Cas rushed to grab something to shove in his mouth. “Shut the fuck up!” Cas growled. “You want this to go slower? LOOK AT ME!” He commanded. And Eric listened, tears streaming down his face as he stared into Castiel’s ice cold eyes. “I will carve you inch by inch if you don’t shut the fuck up. Nod and tell me you understand.” He was still whimpering and crying, but he listened. Unfortunately he woke up David, and Cas was too focused on Eric to notice.

Dean’s cock was pressing painfully against his jeans by the time Cas finished. “Jesus Christ, Cas.” He pulled him into a sloppy kiss, his hand wrapped tight around the back of his head. He broke it abruptly as he heard David’s shoes slamming against the table in an effort to slide himself off of it. Dean’s predatory grin turned quickly lethal. “Playtime, angel.”

Cas was still hard and it had nothing to do with that mediocre blow job David gave him and _everything_ to do with the delicious screams of a doomed man.

But their kiss was interrupted, and Castiel did _not_ like that.

He charged over and grabbed David, slamming him hard onto the floor and wrapping his arm around his neck. “That was rude, David. You interrupted a beautiful moment I was having with my boyfriend.” David was struggling to fight back and Cas didn’t even notice he used the word _boyfriend._ “Just for that, _he_ gets to be the one to chop off your cock.”

Cas squeezed until he wasn’t fighting back anymore and slumped over, hanging on to consciousness by a thread. “No sleeping yet, sweet David.” Castiel tsked and tied him up.

Dean watched his angel with lust blown eyes and pressed play on the song on his phone before circling behind Eric. He was groaning and screaming around his gag, and Dean ran a hand through the hot, gorgeous blood running down his back. “You’re actually kinda beautiful for a little bitch. I get why David let you push him around... but now it’s _my_ turn.” Eric squealed like a pig when Dean slid his finger alongside the meat hook and into the torn skin of his back. “Sound so pretty for me, too. Maybe I shoulda fucked you first.” He undid the belt of the police uniform and unbuttoned his pants with one hand, slowly sliding his zipper down. His eyes left his victim in search of Cas as he wrapped a bloody hand around his own exposed cock. “How you doing over there, angel?”

Cas didn’t hang David on the meat hook. Instead, he hung his tied hands on it so he couldn’t lower them and cut off his clothes, leaving him completely exposed.

Castiel circled him like prey, “It’s like a blank canvas, where do I begin.” He glanced over at Dean and bit his lip, watching him stroke his cock with another man’s blood. “Doing okay, you about to make that top a bottom baby?” Cas asked, palming his own erection.

“Why are you doing this?” David cried, and Cas grinned. 

_“Why?_ Do they always ask _why?_ I had hoped they would.” He looked over at Dean. “Can I answer this one baby?” Cas asked with an excited glint in his eyes.

Dean shook his head slightly. “You can answer him, but you’re the only one that gets me tonight.” He tipped his head back and pulled his lip between his teeth, still fisting his cock. “But I told you, you do what feels right. You get a free pass tonight.”

Cas picked up his blade and twirled it around, walking in a small circle. “ _Why..._ Well… I’m just giving you what you wanted David. You were just so... _desperate_ to be loved. Desperate for attention that you came here, to this murder shack because I gave you a few smiles. You were so quick to believe that your knight in shining armor had come along after all the abuse you endured from Eric. It’s obvious why _he_ is here. _He_ deserves this, not to mention, he touched the Devil’s Angel. He _has_ to die. _You..._ you don’t deserve this. And I’m _almost_ sorry. But I needed a toy and really, we both win here. I’m going to give you _all_ the attention you crave and pay more attention to every detail of your body, than _any_ man before me.” Cas slid the blade down David’s torso, hard enough to sting and cut only slightly.

David looked woozy, his head bleeding from where Cas had hit him with the pipe. But without his clothes to shield him, he was unable to hide the thickening of his cock. Dean laughed, a little louder than he’d intended to - it had been awhile since he’d seen someone get a fear boner. Or, maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe after all the abuse from Eric, David’s pathetic little dick just _had_ that response. It wasn’t as though Dean and Cas couldn’t sympathize, it became clear to both of them quite a while ago that they’d never get off again without a little violence to tip them over.

“Look at that, Cas. I think he wants you, even though it’s pretty clear you’re gonna give a whole knew meaning to the phrase _fuck the life out of him.”_

Cas was completely amazed. He stared at David in awe, what a _perfect_ toy.

Cas reached forward and stroked him, just to fuck with him more. “Hard for me David? You want me to fuck you?” Cas tilted his head.

David arched away from Cas’ touch and his face turned a brilliant shade of red as he shook his head, keeping his eyes glued to where Eric was quickly slipping from consciousness. “No, don’t - don’t touch me!”

Cas frowned and had the nerve to look offended. “Rude! This is _for_ you.” Cas put the blade to David’s chest and slid it across his sternum, getting hard as the blood spilled down his torso. “Beautiful. You know, I pictured this while you told me about your boring accounting job. Pictured you just... like... this.” He slid a finger across the blood, acting as if he couldn’t hear David’s whines.

David tried again to squirm away from Cas but couldn’t get far. His wrists were starting to chafe, and he’d been on his tiptoes trying to alleviate the pressure but the blood spilling onto the floor made him slip.

Dean tucked himself back into his jeans, noticing for the first time that Eric seemed to be sagging. Dean smacked his face a few times but got no response. “Oh for fuck’s sake, I shoulda known that wouldn’t work.” It took some manhandling, but he managed to get Eric off of the meat hook and dropped his limp body to the ground. He straddled him, his fingers checking for a pulse - which he found. “You good over there, Cas? As much as I’ve enjoyed watching, I think I’m gonna have some fun with this one now.”

Cas glanced back at Dean. “I’m okay baby. You okay? You know I love watching you too but tonight... is a two for one special event.” He grinned at David. “You’re so much more beautiful when you bleed. I actually _want_ to fuck you now.”

David visibly clenched, his body automatically responding to the threat. “You’re a fucking psycho!” He started screaming Eric’s name, hoping if he woke up, Eric could somehow get them out of this.

Dean grabbed a knife and climbed back on top of Eric, his jaw clenched in jealousy he wouldn’t let himself verbalize. He might not have been able to bring himself to say it, but he could _carve._ “Do what you need to do, angel.” Dean stripped Eric down and flattened the blade against his chest, dragging it slowly until he cut off about a square inch of skin. Eric jerked awake and Dean smiled sinfully as the man screamed and bucked below him. Dean was heavier than he looked, and with the blood Eric had already lost... he didn’t stand a chance.

Eric began to cry. “Please! Stop. Why are you doing this? I’ll give you money. You can take David. Just let me go!”

Cas frowned at David when he called him a psycho. _“What_ did you call me?” He stepped forward with an ice cold stare. “Now, you don’t get my cock.” He twirled the blade in his hand and tilted his head. “Is _this_ what a _psycho_ would do?” He said, making his way behind David, whose body convulsed in fear. 

David slipped in the blood covering the ground and his wrist broke with a loud _crack,_ making him scream. He otherwise made no attempt to answer Cas’ question. 

The scream lined up perfectly with Cas’ favorite part of the song, he leaned in behind David’s ear and sang to him, _“Hush little baby don't say a word. And never mind that noise you heard, It's just the beasts under your bed, In your closet in your head.”_

Dean frowned down at Eric, dropping the blade long enough to pin his struggling form to the ground again. “Don’t want your money, you _moron._ Case you haven’t noticed... we’re in a little too deep now.” Dean moved so his knees were pinning Eric’s arms down and he was straddling him. He picked his knife up once more, cutting another slice of flesh from his body. “Sit _still.”_

Eric struggled and screamed, not understanding how this man was so strong. 

Cas poked the blade right between David’s asscheeks but didn’t push in. “Say you’re sorrrry...” He said in a sing song voice.

David froze completely other than the uncontrollable shaking of his body. He was sobbing quietly, saying _“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry”_ over and over again.

Dean decided he’d had enough of his toy and reached his arm behind him, cutting Eric _deep_ across the middle without taking his eyes off Eric’s face. The squelching sound of blood and guts reached his ears as Eric was disemboweled, coating the floor around them. His face contorted for barely a second, and then he was gone.

Castiel felt something in his gut then. Was it... _guilt?_ Fuck... it was. He actually began to feel sorry for David. He moved the blade away and took a step back, looking at all he just did. This was a _human being_ and Cas treated him as though he was no more than the cows that used to hang there. “Dammit David.” Cas shook his head. “Let me help you out.” 

Cas slid the blade into David’s heart. It was much harder than it looked on tv, but once he found the right angle, he shoved it inside and watched the light leave the eyes of his very first victim.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this helps with some of the... sadness caused in the last chapter.

Two weeks after they finally cleaned up the messes that were David and Eric, they hit the road again. This would be the third town in that time period where they’d laid their heads, but it was better to keep moving. News had broken about the murders and people were _probably_ talking about the very public fight Cas had with Eric, but if Cas was identified as a suspect, they hadn’t heard about it. 

Dean gripped the steering wheel and glanced over at Cas as Bob Seger played in the background. “You finally ready to talk about what happened at that warehouse?”

Cas glanced over. He actually hadn’t slept well since they’d left that warehouse. They weren’t careful that day. Cas was sure they would be caught at any time, and it would be _all_ his fault. This was a much different kind of drop, but a drop, nonetheless. “I don’t really know what to say. I enjoyed that _so_ much and then I felt completely overwhelmed with guilt. He was an innocent. I would have enjoyed killing Eric more. At least he deserved to die.”

Dean frowned, reaching over to take Cas’ hand and adjusting his grip on the wheel. That was something people did, right? Held hands when they were sad? “Look, all I can really say is it gets easier. First time I killed somebody, I was hired. Threw up all over the place after... could barely eat or sleep for a fucking month. But pretty soon, I realized killin’ that guy was the only thing that ever made me feel... normal. _Real._ Powerful. I craved it, and pretty soon it didn’t matter who was under my knife. Blood is blood, Cas. Everybody bleeds it, and ain’t _nobody_ innocent.”

Cas nodded and took Dean’s hand. “Okay.” He looked back out the window; he didn’t like feeling guilt. But next time... would be easier. He decided he would make them tell him the worst thing they did to make him feel better about it.

Dean relaxed a little, Cas’ palm was warm against his and it was oddly comforting. “If it makes you feel better, we can be pickier about who we kill. Go after the worst of humanity, instead of just the loneliest.”

“Yeah I... I like that idea.” Cas smiled, feeling better already. He squeezed Dean’s hand affectionately.

Cas’ smile was infectious and Dean couldn’t stop himself from returning it. He turned his gaze back on the open road in front of them and had to laugh. “Who knows, maybe the cops will give us a break for doing the world a favor.”

Cas didn’t know if he should laugh or flip shit over that joke. The thought of being caught made him want to puke, but at the same time. How else would _this_ end? And if that were the case, why not joke about it. So he laughed.

Dean wasn’t thrilled about the extra work it was going to take to only hunt the guiltiest among them, but there truly wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Cas. They drove the rest of the way to their destination in silence, and when they pulled into the motel parking lot, he looked over. “Y’know... I didn’t wanna say anything before, I knew you were feelin’ some type of way about all of it... but that was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my _life.”_

Cas beamed. “Yeah?” He leaned in closer. “Let’s get in this room and then you repeat back _exactly_ what was so hot about it.” Cas was actually excited to hear Dean’s perspective on his first kill, he hadn’t said much about that night yet. 

”Hm. I think I can handle that.” Dean got out of the car and went inside the lobby, checking in with cash as Cas gathered the bags from the trunk. They met back up at the car and Dean led them into the little room that smelled faintly of stale cigarette smoke. He locked the door behind them and pulled one of the knives from his bag, setting it down on the table by the bed. It was a habit that he’d gotten into a long time ago, it was just better to have a weapon close. He slept better. He turned after, closing the distance between himself and Cas and kissing him hard, his tongue sweeping past Cas’ teeth and licking into his mouth. He pulled back enough to speak. “You wanna know what I thought was so hot about it? I think it was your eyes. That wild, crazy _beautiful_ look you got in ‘em as you were spinning that blade in your hand. I could practically see your mind working, trying to figure out the best way to cut him.” Dean’s cock chubbed at the memory and he yanked on Cas’ hair, tilting his head back and raking his teeth over Cas’ jaw.

Cas let his head fall and groaned. “Fuck... what else? His cock was already hard. Though he had some feelings about that night, he mostly pictured the good parts, like the blood. He had thought of the blood _every_ time they fucked. 

Dean’s teeth nipped at his neck and he held there, his breath hot against Cas’ skin. “The fact that David knew he was gonna die, and he _still_ got hard for you.” He bit down, sucking a dark bruise into the side of Cas’ throat. “I can’t blame him, I thought I was gonna come in my damn pants watching you make him bleed.”

“Yeah??” Cas growled, shoving Dean down on the bed and straddling him. “Did it make you jealous? Seeing him get hard for me?”

“No.” Dean gripped Cas’ hips, grinding his thickening cock against his angel’s ass. “But watching him try and suck you off at the beginning? You saying _you_ wanted to fuck him? Maybe.”

“Yeah? Next time I want you to do something about it.” Cas wrapped his hand around Dean’s throat. “Don’t let anyone touch _your_ angel. Got it?”

Dean’s eyes fluttered closed and his grip became bruising on Cas’ sides. “I told you to do what you wanted, Cas. It was your first kill, I wasn’t gonna take a single part of it away from you.”

“How sweet of you... _devil.”_ Cas sat up and climbed off. “Roll over.”

Dean narrowed his eyes and stayed right where he was. “Why?”

Cas gave Dean the ice cold stare he loved from the warehouse. “Because I said so.”

Dean was grateful his cock was trapped under the waistband of his jeans and therefore the fucking involuntary _twitch_ it gave at Cas’ voice and gaze. He propped himself up on his elbows and gave Cas a challenging grin. “Oh, c’mon, angel. Don’t be stupid, do you honestly believe I’m gonna make this easy for you?” He slowly moved until he was eye level with Cas and raised his eyebrow, leaning in until their noses were practically touching. _“Make me.”_

Cas grinned and leaned in, kissing Dean for only a second, before biting his lip so hard it split. He pulled away and rolled Dean onto his stomach before he realized what was happening and straddled him again. “When have I ever questioned you, _Dean?”_ Cas wrapped his hand around Dean’s neck again.

Dean laughed at the stinging pain in his lip and sucked the blood from it, his eyes dancing. He wiggled a little, testing Cas’ grip on his throat but his angel _wasn’t_ fucking around this time. “You _don’t_ question me. Doesn’t mean I can’t question _you.”_

“Yes it does!” Cas rutted against Dean’s ass. “This ass is _mine,_ as mine is yours. Is it _not?!”_ He squeezed his hand tighter, lifting Dean up slightly.

Dean gasped, the sound coming out as more of a gurgle. He swallowed with difficulty and moved his hands in front of him for balance. “Yeah.”

Cas made a pleased hum into Dean’s ear. “Good. Don’t move.” Cas bit the back of his neck and started kissing his way down Dean’s back.

“You’re askin’ an awful lot, angel.” Dean curled his fingers into the sheet above his head and the muscles in his entire body went taut.

“Am I?” He bit Dean’s hip. “But you would do _anything_ for your Angel.” Cas pulled at Dean’s pants, sucking and kissing on Dean’s back and ass.

Dean growled and bit down on the sheet to stop his retort, because Cas was right. He _would_ do anything, even this. He owed Cas that much. He took a few deep breaths and then steadied himself.

“Relax for me baby.” Cas stripped Dean and returned to his ass, spreading him open. “You love my mouth, remember?” He lapped at Dean’s hole.

“Fuck!” Dean’s eyes opened just about as wide as they would go, and he let out an embarrassing noise. He’d had a lot of sex in his life, but not... _that._ It was hot and strange and overwhelming, and he tried halfheartedly to squirm away.

Castiel shushed him and gripped his hips. “Relax... let me take care of you this time baby.” His voice was low and deep from arousal.

Dean’s skin was on fire but _fuck_ if Cas’ voice didn’t go straight to his cock. He fought Cas’ grip to rut against the bed, desperate for friction, movement, _something._ “Fuck... I... fine.” He buried his face in the pillow and tried to relax.

Cas slid a finger inside with his tongue. He knew he needed to get at least three in there before he would fit, so he needed to make Dean feel good so he could stay relaxed. “If you spread a little more I can give that cock some attention too.”

“What, you don’t think you can fuck me as good as I fuck you? Most of the time I don’t even _need_ to touch your cock to get you coming all over yourself like a whore.” Dean reached behind him and planted both hands on the back of Cas’ head, holding him in place as he ground his ass against his face. He knew eventually he’d give in and let Cas take him, but old habits die hard.

Cas nipped at the sensitive skin to get Dean to loosen his grip. “Fine. Come on my cock or not at all.” Cas shoved a second finger inside with a growl, biting Dean’s ass cheek again.

Dean let out a satisfied groan, knowing damn well he wasn’t going to come just from getting fucked, but just maybe he _wanted_ Cas to take control from him and knew the only way he’d truly get him there without outright asking - was to _push._ “Shoulda made you take me out to fucking dinner first.” He arched his back, reaching behind him to dig his nails into Cas’ shoulder.

Cas growled and sat up to grab the lube. _Fuck it,_ he thought. “This isn’t the fucking prom.” He said out loud as he lubed up his rock hard erection.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, if it was... I’d have gotten off already.” He wiggled his ass, turning his head to fix Cas with a playful yet smug expression. “What’s your plan to hold me down, angel? You might be the one about to put your cock inside of me, but I bet I’ll still be the one fucking _you.”_

Cas huffed a laugh and lined up with Dean’s hole. “In that case, I’ll make this quick.” Cas pushed inside, not stopping until he was completely bottomed out. He reached forward and gripped Dean’s shoulder, the new position allowing his cock to push right on Dean’s sweet spot.

Dean fucking _screamed._ The instant, searing pain followed by exploding pleasure caused his cock to grow so thick and hard he thought he’d go blind. He took a shuddering breath and his voice came out sounding almost angry, but he was far from it. “Ahhh, _fuck,_ c’mon, Cas. Don’t be so fucking gentle with me, I’m not your goddamn _girlfriend.”_

Cas growled and pulled out, thrusting back in. He let go of Dean’s shoulder to squeeze his hips with a bruising grip, fucking into Dean like this _wasn’t_ his first time. But Cas knew he could handle it.

Dean’s taunts turned into jaw-clenching grunts as his angel split him open. It hurt like hell, probably more than any organic pleasure he was getting from it, but that was the point. In the absence of hurting others, maybe _he_ needed to hurt. He pushed himself up, fighting Cas’ grip and threw his ass back until their bodies were jarring together. He finally found his voice again. “After all this, you _better_ fucking come in me, angel.”

Cas was tempted to deny Dean but couldn’t. His ass was a fucking wonderland and Cas never wanted to leave it. He fucked into Dean, chasing his own release but making sure to hit his prostate with every _other_ thrust, until his orgasm pulled at his gut and he began pounding into it relentlessly.

Cas fucked Dean right back down into that mattress. Dean’s arms felt like jello anyway, he wouldn’t have lasted much longer trying to hold himself up through Cas’ assault. He was drooling all over the sheet and there was a matching fucking wet spot from his cock leaking all over the place every time Cas made him see stars. He was right, he wasn’t gonna be able to come without something else, but Cas finally being the one to take what he needed from _Dean_ was enough that Dean loved every wretched second of it. He’d never known anything but violence and this felt right at home for him. Dean’s entire being was engulfed in bittersweet flames and he didn’t know how much more he could honestly stand; Cas felt a lot fucking bigger buried in his tight ass than he _ever_ did in Dean’s throat. He pulled out one last, desperate measure to tip Cas over. Dean put his hands behind his own back and clenched his wrist, hoping Cas would understand he was finally, willingly giving him control.

Castiel’s eyes opened when he felt Dean grip his wrist and instantly came hard. Nearly blacking out at the release. He slammed into his lover, working his way through his orgasm before collapsing down on his back, kissing him in a way to thank him without saying the words.

Cas may have been fucked out, but he still wanted to please Dean, so he slid out and rolled him onto his back, and slid his hard cock into his throat.

Dean could feel Cas’ come leaking from his abused hole and couldn’t decide if he fucking _loved_ it or hated it, but the thoughts didn’t have long to battle in his head before Cas was sucking him off like a goddamned pornstar. Dean’s voice was wrecked from moaning and grunting so much already but he rasped out Cas’ name as his body convulsed. His toes curled and his knees bent of their own volition... he was beginning to think that in the small act of conceding control of the sex to Cas, he’d flat out _lost_ control of his entire body. He was panting and squirming and writhing beneath Cas, and a single tug to his balls had him coming down his angel’s throat with a roar that threatened to split his chest open.

Cas swallowed Dean happily and pulled off. He climbed back up to lay on his chest, giving Dean back all the control instantly when he curled up under his arm.

Cas _loved_ it when he was laying here on his devil’s chest. Everything in the world seemed to slow down.

Dean’s mouth turned up in a barely visible smile as he held Cas to him. “Yeah, alright. Guess that wasn’t _horrible.”_

“Mmhmm,” Cas said, already drifting from consciousness. He hadn’t taken control in so long it took everything out of him. “You’re a power bottom and I’m not surprised,” he mumbled.

Dean let out a breathless chuckle and pressed a quick kiss to Cas’ temple. “Another 5 minutes and I mighta turned into a _needy_ one. You’re amazing, angel.”

He closed his eyes, and within a couple of short minutes, they were both asleep. 

Cas woke up first, thanks to mother nature, and made his way to the bathroom to clean up. Dean was sleeping peacefully so Cas took it upon himself to go out and get them some food. Dean was always the one to do it and Cas wanted to help out. He didn’t dare take the impala, so he chose a place within walking distance, hoping they would have breakfast sandwiches.

They did, and they also had a lonely looking twink working the register. Cas used his charm and found out his name was Jesse, who moved here to take care of his grandma who just passed away. Cas left the place thinking _maybe..._ but he’d have to talk to Dean first.

Dean woke up with a start as he heard the motel door open. In an instant, he was sitting up with his knife in his hand, ready to attack. Cas announced it was just him and he’d brought breakfast, and Dean huffed a nervous breath and put the blade down slowly. “Jesus, angel. Can’t be sneakin’ up on me like that.”

Dean slid out of bed and made his way over to the small table by the window to eat, looking groggy and generally put out. The second he sat down, he flinched, feeling every single centimeter of what Cas had done the night before.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Oh, were you gonna stab me big boy?” He teased but noticed him flinch. “You okay?”

Dean deadpanned, “Would that somehow be surprising? And I’m fine, just... y’know. Sore.” He fished out a breakfast sandwich and unwrapped it, taking a bite.

Cas grinned and walked over to kiss Dean. “Hey, you asked for it baby. Want a tongue massage?” Cas licked Dean’s ear to mess with him.

Dean’s cock twitched and he called his bluff. “Actually... yeah. Bring it on. But for the record, I didn’t ask for any of that.” He raised an eyebrow, taking another bite of his sandwich.

Cas laughed. “Um, yeah you did. When you challenged me. How about I challenge _you_ next time and you can see just how much I’m _asking_ for it?” He ran a hand through Dean’s hair lovingly. “You’d tear my ass up so bad I would walk funny.”

Dean hummed and grinned proudly. “Goddamn right I would.” He tilted his head, watching his angel. “Wonder what _else_ I could get you to do if I challenged you.”

Cas leaned down and bit his earlobe. ”I wonder too. You want to find out or you want to hear about the new toy I found?”

Both things commanded Dean’s attention, but curiosity won out over the growing boner in his pajamas. “Toy, huh? Let’s go with door number two then.”

“I do love door number two now.” Cas joked. “Okay, Okay, his name is Jesse. He just moved here to take care of his grandmother but she passed away last week. He isn’t sure what he’s going to do because he just got this job and has to clean out her whole house alone. Should I go back and offer my services to see if he’s a good toy?”

Dean slowly licked his lip and drummed his fingers on the table. “Sounds more like a saint than a sinner, Cas. Thought we were going after the dregs of humanity these days? What is it about _Jesse_ that has you ready to take him despite the fact that everything you just said points to him being grandma’s little golden boy?”

Cas thought about that. “I... forgot. I just saw how easy it was.” The guilt returned. _“Fuck!”_ He got up and walked over to the bed. “I don’t want to care.” But he already knew, Dean was right, he wouldn’t be able to kill Jesse.

Dean tilted his head and suggested something he never thought he’d suggest. “Go help him. No strings attached, just... be a good person. Maybe it’ll help.”

Cas frowned. “But…” Maybe... maybe that would help balance the scales for Cas. “Okay. I’ll try it. And if anything happens I'll call you.” Now, _Cas_ would be the one lured into an unknown location. His mind knew anything was possible and Jesse might not be the nice guy he seemed to be. But, he’d only know for sure if he tried.

Dean’s eyes bored into Cas’ in a reminder of who Cas really belonged to. “Don’t do anything _I’ll_ end up regretting.” He smiled just enough to show Cas he understood why this was happening and that he supported him in the only way he knew how... silently, and with an attitude. 

Cas nodded and went back to eat his breakfast. Dean was everything he needed, maybe the world wouldn’t understand what they had, but _they_ did. “If he touches me will you kill him?” He’d be lying if he said his cock didn’t twitch at the thought. He loved when Dean got protective.

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in Dean’s voice, no wavering or room for discussion in his gaze. “I will.”

Castiel didn’t even try to hide his smile. “Because I’m _yours.”_ He walked over to straddle Dean. “All... yours.”

Dean got uncharacteristically nervous as he wrapped his arms around Cas to hold him in his lap. For the first time in his life, he understood what it was like to have something worth losing. “Come back to me, Cas. You hear me?”

He nodded. “Of course. Always.” Cas kissed him, letting him know there was no where else he’d rather be. “I’ll send you the address as soon as I get it and if you don’t hear from me... come for me.”

Dean thought the entire thing was incredibly stupid and risky for no reason, but when Cas kissed him, he was reminded of how powerless he really was here. He’d let Cas do whatever the hell he wanted in order to keep him around. He rested his forehead against Cas’ chest and nodded. “Yeah, angel. I’ll come for you. I’ll _always_ come for you.” 


	12. Chapter 12

Jesse turned out to be a regular dude. Castiel almost struggled with how to act. He was so used to it being just him and Dean that he almost forgot he should have a filter. He was glad Dean reminded him that he didn’t want to kill innocent people. Jesse didn’t deserve to die, even if he _did_ let a stranger into his home so easily. Just because someone was naive didn’t mean they deserved to die.

He ordered them pizza to pay Cas back for all the help and they got a lot done. Cas actually had no intentions on returning, he helped, that was enough to feel good about himself for awhile but unfortunately, he forgot to check in with Dean after he initially arrived.

Dean had received a text not long after Cas left with an address. He knew he’d be gone a while because he was a helpful little shit, but when dinner time rolled around and he hadn’t heard from Cas again, he got worried. He tried calling twice but it went straight to voicemail both times. The hair on the back of Dean’s neck stood on end and he had a _horrible_ feeling in the pit of his stomach, so he dressed quickly and grabbed his keys, heading out to the car and getting in.

After dinner, Cas realized the sun had begun to set and stood up. “Shit it’s getting late, I have to go.” Jesse jumped up to walk him out and when Cas looked down on his phone he saw it was dead. _Shit, Dean is gonna freak!_

“Thank you so much for the help. I was hoping you could stay later so I could thank you properly.” Jesse said when they reached the door.

“Thanks but I just wanted to help. No need to thank me.”

Jesse stepped into Cas’ face as he turned and kissed him, but Cas instantly backed away. “Hey man, I have a boyfriend. I was just being a friend.” He felt as though he just betrayed Dean. No one was allowed to kiss him but Dean.

When Dean finally pulled into the driveway, the voices in his head were so loud he couldn’t hear anything else. They were _screaming_ \- filling his thoughts with rage and blood and murder. There was only one path in his mind, and it was laid out in front of him as clear as the cement walkway he was now jogging over in his attempt to get to the door. The engine was still running, he hadn’t grabbed his bag... none of it mattered. His bare hands were lethal enough.

Dean circled around to the front door and slammed his fist on the wood. “Open the _goddamn_ door!”

Cas jumped from the pounding and instantly knew who it was. _Shit... Jesse was dead._ Castiel already knew.

He opened up the door and let Dean inside. “I’m sorry! The phone died, I was just heading back.”

Jesse stood there stunned. “Who is this??”

Dean was fucking dumbfounded that Cas was alive. He’d considered a hundred options, nearly all of them involving Cas’ mangled, broken body - but not one of them left room for the option that Cas was just intentionally ignoring him. He looked at Jesse, “Your worst fuckin’ nightmare’s worst nightmare.” He flicked his eyes back to Cas and let out a breath, his head pounding already from the internal war waging over whether or not to kill Jesse despite the fact that Cas wanted him alive. “The fuck you been doin’ all day?”

Jesse stepped forward, worried for Cas, he felt this man was violent. “Do you need me to call the cops Castiel?” 

Cas turned to him and frowned. “What?! No.” He turned back to Dean. “I’m sorry we were moving furniture and organizing and I lost track of time and my phone died.”

Jesse took another step forward. “Are you going to hit him for not calling you?” 

“Don’t be a hero right now Jesse!” Cas said through gritted teeth. If he wanted to live, he would shut up.

Dean’s hand twitched at his side. His eyes were wild; he was fighting _every_ gut instinct he had by not killing Jesse right there and taking Cas away. But his angel’s words cut through the voices and he reminded himself that Cas _wanted_ Jesse to live. “I don’t hurt Cas unless he asks me to. You, on the other hand…” Dean bit his tongue hard and tilted his head toward Cas. “Get in the fucking car. We’re leaving.” 

Cas nodded quickly, “Okay. Let’s go.” He reached to grab Dean’s hand.

“Cas, I’m worried, you shouldn’t go with him, just stay here, I won’t try to kiss you again.” Jesse said, genuinely concerned.

Dean went eerily still other than a slight movement to pull his hand out of Cas’ reach, but it felt like slow motion. He tilted his head toward Jesse. “What... the _fuck..._ did you just say?”

Cas closed his eyes and sighed, _it was over._ Jesse should have stopped talking when Cas asked him to.

Jesse felt a cold chill go down his spine, “I... I kissed him but he pulled away.”

Dean walked slowly toward Jesse. “If you’re runnin’ around kissin’ people, where’s _mine?”_

He looked offended, “I’m not just going around kissing people, psycho! I liked Cas, he was my own personal angel today. I thought we had a connection and I was thankful he helped me, I was hoping to thank him with a blowjob or something but he denied me. I just haven’t gotten laid in months and he’s beautiful.” Jesse didn’t know why he was saying all this but he couldn’t help it. Dean’s gaze was so intense it felt like he was looking into his soul, it made him take a step back.

Dean stopped listening after _own personal angel._ He threw himself at Jesse, wrestling him to the ground onto his stomach and straddled his back. He grabbed a fistful of Jesse’s hair and yanked his head back before smashing his face against the hardwood floor. “Funny thing about angels... is that the _demons_ usually aren’t far behind.” 

He repeated the motion as Jesse cried out and bucked under him, but Dean was used to pinning down grown men and bending them to his will. He knew on some level he wasn’t really mad at Jesse, he was mad at _himself,_ for not deserving Cas. For _being_ the psycho this man accused him of being. Of being cruel and broken enough to beat an innocent man to death in his grandmother’s living room, simply for pointing out that Cas deserved better.

Over and over again, Dean slammed Jesse’s head into the floor until his body went limp and the wood was stained red. He kept going, knowing Jesse was already dead but he couldn’t stop. He was vaguely aware that he was screaming, his vocal chords protested the harsh, guttural sound and yet it came anyway. Exhaustion coursed through him and the sickening sounds of an already pulverized skull hitting the ground became further apart, until eventually he was surrounded by so much blood and brain matter that the entire world went quiet.

Cas was completely frozen, and his eyes were wide from shock. “Dean…” He whispered once it all ended and he kneeled next to Dean on the floor. “Look at me…”

_What the fuck were they going to do?_

Dean’s entire body was shaking violently. That was easily the most uncontrolled he’d ever become during a kill, there was no finesse, no planning... there would be no running from this one or covering it up. He shook his head, refusing to look at him. “You should go, Cas. Keys are still in the ignition, it’s still running.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you! Wash your hands and let’s just fucking go.” Cas meant it, if Dean didn’t move, he wouldn’t either. “Either we go or we stay. But it’s _we!”_

It was the thought of Cas going down for this that made Dean finally move. His body felt sluggish as he rose off of Jesse’s lifeless form, and he was _covered_ in blood. He turned to face Cas. “I don’t think washing my hands is gonna do a lot of good this time, angel. We gotta go.” He took off out the door with Cas right behind him and they quickly got in the car and drove off. Dean cursed under his breath when he saw how much gas Baby had burned off while idling, they wouldn’t get far without stopping. His mind was once again moving a hundred miles a minute but this time, he was trying to figure out how the hell to get away with what he’d just done.

“We need to get gas right now. You stay in the car and out of sight. We need to get our stuff, again, you stay in the car and then find somewhere out of town for you to wash up.” Cas always felt better with a plan. “But what the fuck Dean?! I didn’t kiss him back! I pushed him off and told him I was taken! I only want you.”

Dean receded further into his own mind. He didn’t answer Cas, he couldn’t. He didn’t have a justification for this one and he knew it. Everything he’d worked for was going to unravel, and he was going to drag Cas down with him. He pulled into a gas station parking lot and tried to slink down in the seat; from what he could see of his reflection in the mirror, there was blood spatter on his face and coating his chest.

Cas didn’t expect an answer. He knew there wasn’t one. Honestly Castiel was completely turned on by Dean possessiveness, and maybe he could have played around a little with that. But _this..._ they were fucked now.

He pumped gas, filled up a few spare cans of gas, got snacks and then headed back to the hotel. “Stay here, we don’t want his DNA anywhere near our hotel room.” Cas ran upstairs and got all of their clothes packed and made a couple trips down with their stuff, packing up the car and then climbing back inside. “Okay, drive somewhere secluded so you can change.”

Dean just listened. It was like he was running on autopilot, except... Cas was the one giving him directions. It was kind of nice, if he was being honest. Having the responsibility of figuring a way out of their immediate situation taken from him and just being able to _drive._ He didn’t want to touch any part of the car that he didn’t absolutely have to, so they drove in silence until Cas seemed to take the hint and turned the radio on. Music always calmed Dean, but today? At that moment, when the carefully constructed prisms in his mind were shattering? Not even Zeppelin was helping.

They eventually pulled into a sketchy looking truck stop. Dean knew from experience that these usually had showers and industrial sized dumpsters, so he parked the car out of sight from the road and grabbed some clean clothes from his bag. While Dean was inside showering, Cas grabbed some napkins and water from the bag of stuff he’d gotten at the gas station and started trying to scrub the blood from the steering wheel and door handle. It wasn’t perfect and certainly wouldn’t protect them if anyone came looking for traces, but at least Dean didn’t have to see it when he got back into the car.

Dean filled up the tank once more and kept driving. The horizon was black, and he _always_ felt better under the cover of darkness. His shoulders finally relaxed.

They once again drove in silence and it was okay, because Dean needed to think, and Cas understood that.

After a couple hours they filled up again, grabbed some food and pulled into a rest stop to sleep. “Can we lay together?” Castiel was actually upset about what happened that day, but he felt Dean had thought about it enough already and for now, he just wanted to hold him.

Dean nodded a little, looking around at the deserted spot. “Yeah, can’t promise it’s gonna be very comfortable though. Backseat might be easier.”

Cas let Dean climb in first and then Cas climbed back. And laid on his chest. Yeah, it wasn’t the most comfortable but Cas hoped it brought Dean comfort the way it brought him comfort. “We need to disappear, Dean,” Cas spoke in a whisper.

“Why the hell are you still here, Cas?” Dean’s arms wrapped around him protectively and his voice sound awed, not accusatory. “I can’t figure out why you want anything to fuckin’ _do_ with me anymore.”

“You’re my home.” Cas stated simply. “I’ve never had a home before, or felt so safe. You make my life have meaning Dean, don’t you feel it too?”

“Of course I do, Cas, but it makes way more sense for me than it does for you. I’ve killed every good thing in your life, and now... thanks to me losing my shit over a kiss you didn’t even reciprocate, we’re gonna end up dead or in jail.” Dean shifted slightly to angle his body more toward Cas, pulling him even closer.

“I love that you feel so protective and possessive over me. It makes me feel... special. For the first time in my life, someone cares for me, and I care for them. I care so much, that dying with you sounds like a fairytale ending to this shit show. As long as we’re together”

Dean’s voice was quiet. “I don’t want you to die, angel. That’s what _caused_ this shitshow in the first place... I don’t wanna be the reason your light goes out. I know you wanna die together in a blaze of glory or whatever... but I’d rather take the fall for both of us and know when _my_ light goes out that yours will still be out there somewhere.” He fell silent for a long moment. “I’m s... I shouldn’t have killed Jesse. You were right, he didn’t deserve it.”

“Dean, my light is yours. Without you, there is no light. I will do anything you say, but not that. We go down together.”

He knew he’d never be able to talk Cas out of it, and if he was being truthful... he didn’t really want to. Something inside of him changed irrevocably when he met Cas, and he wasn’t ready to give that up. “Alright, Cas. But, if you’re stickin’ by me... we’re not _going_ down. We’re gonna find a way outta this mess. I promise.”

Cas nodded, not a trace of doubt on his face. “I know we will. I trust you with my life Dean.” He kissed Dean, slowly at first but it quickly turned heated. Both of them wanting to show the other how much they cared. Needing the other to understand they were ready to go all the way.

Cas had a passing thought, _Till death do us part,_ but this was no marriage. No _this,_ was something more. Something deeper than any piece of paper they could get. They were _one._

Cas was rock hard, thinking of how Dean just killed a man for touching him. For kissing _his_ Angel. Castiel had never felt more important in his entire life. “Let me ride you baby.” He whispered while Dean kissed down his neck.

Dean’s fingers curled around Cas’ shirt and he growled, shifting them both until he could sit up fully. His pants were shoved down to his ankles in an instant, his cock already standing at attention because that’s just what _happened_ when Cas kissed him like that. Maybe that’s why he could handle the thought of Cas fucking other people, but _kissing_ them? No, that was something Dean wanted all to himself. He gripped the base of his cock and tilted his head, smiling at Cas through the darkness. “You gonna at least put your mouth on it first? Get me so slick I just _slide_ right in?”

Cas nipped Dean’s jaw with a grin, “Feeling bitey today baby. You sure?” He joked as he lowered himself to Dean’s cock, licking it before Dean could respond.

Dean sucked in a breath and curled his fingers in Cas’ hair. “You won’t bite it, you wanna ride me. Can’t ride a dude with a broken dick.”

Cas would have laughed if he wasn’t currently sliding a dick down his throat so instead, he hummed around Dean, sucking messily to get Dean slick just like he asked.

“Fuck, Cas, so damn good.” Dean rolled his hips, thrusting his cock deeper into Cas’ mouth.”

“Mmhmm.” Cas hummed to Dean, feeling a little cocky. He didn’t know why, but Dean killing a man out of jealousy had Castiel wanting to please him. He felt bad for Jesse, but Dean just loved him _so much,_ and that realization turned Cas on.

There were few things in life Dean enjoyed more than coming after a bloody kill, despite the added tension of the situation he was currently in. “Okay, okay... fuckin’ hell, Cas.” He pulled him off by the hair and grins, already looking a little dazed. “You gonna ride me now or keep teasin’ me?”

Cas slid off his clothes and straddled Dean, lining himself up. “Who’s angel am I?” He asked, as he slid painfully slow down Dean’s cock, relishing the burn.

Dean couldn’t speak until Cas was seated. He knew Cas asked him a question, knew his answer and wanted to give it... but the feeling of Cas’ tight ass wrapping around his cock was intense. He leaned his head back on the seat and closed his eyes, finally whispering, “Mine.”

Cas grinned and slid back up. “Mmhmm... _yours._ You killed for me. You killed someone because you couldn’t imagine their hands on me. Their... _lips_ on mine.” Cas moved slowly still. “Because I’m _all_ yours.”

Dean growled, a low and possessive sound. “You knew I would. I told you I would.” His hands clutched tight to Cas’ hip bones and urged him to move a little faster. “Is it fucked up I’d rather watch someone fuck you than kiss you?”

Cas tossed his head back, baring his neck to Dean. “No. these lips are yours. This ass is yours. All yours.” Cas started to move faster, his cock throbbing between them.

Dean gladly accepted the invitation and closed his teeth around the sensitive, delicious skin of Cas’ neck. He bit and sucked with every intention of marking Cas as _his._ If he’d have just done that this morning... maybe Jesse would still be alive. Dean’s hand wrapped around his angel’s cock and formed a tight fist but held steady, letting Cas’ own movements cause the pulsing, strained cock to slide in and out of his hand. “Fuck, your ass feels good.”

All Cas could do was groan, no words were worthy in this moment of bliss. He rode Dean like it was their last time because _now,_ it really could have been.

They needed to treat every moment as of it was their last together. Cas loved feeling Dean’s mouth marking up his neck, he loved each and every little possessive nip and in this moment he felt completely, 100% _Dean’s._

_“Faster,_ Cas. C’mon, I’m close.” Dean’s free hand urged Cas’ hips on, rolling his own to drive his cock deeper each time his angel thrust down. His breathing was speeding up and he was beginning to think he was going to come without a single drop of blood for the first time in a very, _very_ long time.

Cas gasped and leaned forward, closer to Dean’s ear. “Tell me when to come.” He bit Dean’s neck, hard enough to get a slight taste of copper.

Dean swore loudly, his hand tightening around Cas’ cock. “Now, Cas. Come for me _now.”_ He wrapped his arm around Cas and pulled him down hard, burying himself inside of his angel as he tipped over the edge.

Cas cursed loudly as he came, multiple hot spurts of white painting over Dean’s torso. He slowed, and leaned forward into Dean’s neck, feeling sated and full.

Dean held Cas and stayed buried inside of him as his cock softened. “Did you learn anything today?”

“Mmhmm.” Cas nodded and sighed. “We shouldn’t be apart.”

“You’d think we’d have learned that with Eric and David, huh? Seems like every time you’re away from me, the body count rises.” Dean smiled a little, his face barely visible in the dim lights of the rest stop lot.

“We know _now._ I actually like that the body count rises, it makes me feel important.” Cas had never mattered to anyone before and the fact that Dean would kill for him... there weren’t words to describe how _alive_ it made Castiel feel.

Dean laughed quietly. “Cas, the fact that _you’re_ still breathin’ should tell you that you’re important.”

“True... but how do I know you haven’t kept someone around for a bit and then killed them? Killing for me makes me feel even more special. I can’t explain it. I’ll kill someone for you so you can understand.”

“I think we’re gonna need to lay off the murder for a little bit, Cas.” Dean reached a hand up to cup his angel’s face. “We need to lay low.”

Cas nodded. “You’re right. What will we do for money? I want to contribute in some way but I suck at pool. Is there a way I could help?”

“I can’t share you, Cas.” Dean’s voice got quiet, he was pretty sure he knew what Cas’ version of _help_ would be. “Not even for money, I think I’d rather starve. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Cas shook his head. “I didn’t mean that way. I have other skills…” He trailed off, trying to think of another skill he had. “I can distract people?”

Dean mulled that over in his mind. “You _are_ distracting. You ever learned to pickpocket? You probably wouldn’t even need to be that smooth, just run into ‘em and they’re gonna take one look at your eyes and forget where they even are.”

Cas scoffed. “How do you think I survived as a teenager on the street? Yeah I did the other stuff but I was _excellent_ at pick-pocketing. Especially when I didn’t know how to suck good yet.”

“Then yeah, we’ll start there. Well, actually... we need to _start_ by putting as much distance between us and Sioux Falls as we can.” Dean slowly lifted Cas, frowning when he finally slid out. “Let’s get some sleep, we’ll take a look at my kill map in the morning and figure out a safe place to hide out for awhile.”

Cas got up and cleaned as best as he could before laying down. They didn’t sleep great, but eventually they both passed out.

By the time the news broke the next morning, they were long gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus begins the slow, winding descent.


	13. Chapter 13

**Has the Angel of Death Struck Again?  
** **By** **: Sam Wesson**

_The killer once known as the Sioux Falls Slayer, or sometimes the Angel of Death, might have added another name to his ever-growing list of victims. Twenty-three year old Jesse Hall was found dead in his North Shore home last week from what was described as ‘blunt force trauma to the head,’ by Cooke County Police Chief Brian Jennings. This brings the potential body count to at least eight, but the number could be much higher._

_Chief Jennings reported in an exclusive interview that DNA found at the scene matched traces found on the bodies of known Angel victims. “We hadn’t even considered it to be the same suspect until the lab results came back and we got a hit that tied in with open murder investigations over in Sioux Falls, South Dakota . This suggests either a total shift in M.O. or a seriously violent crime of passion. If that’s the case, it’s possible there were murders before the Angel killings that we just haven’t made the connection to yet. We’re urging the public all across the United States to stay alert and to carry pepper spray or a legal weapon with them wherever possible, and to remain vigilant.”_

_Eyewitness reports indicate that the suspect wanted for questioning in Hall’s murder, as well as the other Angel killings, was traveling with a dark haired, blue eyed man in his mid- to late- twenties. It is unclear at this time if the man is an accomplice or simply the Angel’s latest victim._

_Maggie Sloan, Hall’s neighbor, stated that she saw a ‘handsome but very angry man’ pull up in what looked like a black American muscle car on the day of the murder. The engine remained running as the driver made his way into Hall’s home. “About an hour later, I was walking out front to water my flowers when I saw him leave with another fella, seemed to be just a little younger but he looked downright terrified. The driver was covered in what looked like blood, so I called 911,” Sloan recounted._

_Chief Jennings advised that the FBI has been notified of the additional killing and the change in M.O., and wants to assure the general public that they’re doing everything they can to catch the suspect -- or suspects -- before anyone else gets hurt. “He’s getting sloppy, something changed. The original Angel killings were premeditated and precise, with obvious religious undertones. Mr. Hall didn’t appear to have the signature cross carved into his forehead, nor was his body dumped in a place of spiritual significance. We’re looking into the possibility that the dark haired, blue eyed man reportedly seen with the suspect that day might have been the motivation for the Angel killings, and that could explain the shift in M.O. and the extremely violent nature of Mr. Hall’s death. The suspect may have believed Mr. Hall was getting in his way. At this time, we’re operating under the assumption that the second man is not a willing accomplice, but we strongly advise to avoid contact altogether if either of the men are spotted. He’ll make a mistake soon, and when he does… we’ll be ready.”_

_As always, if anyone has any information about either of the men seen in the sketch depicted below, please reach out to Chief Jennings or directly to the FBI at…”_

Dean tossed the paper down on the table in front of Cas without bothering to read the phone numbers. “Look at that fuckin’ sketch. You’re tellin’ me this neighbor bitch nails me to a goddamn T but can’t get your eyes right?” He shook his head. “Least they could do was capture your best feature.” 

Cas grabbed the paper and looked it over. “Well shit…” He set it down and scratched his head. “Really though? My best feature isn’t my mouth?”

“Not even close. I mean, don’t get me wrong... your mouth is pretty damn awesome but it was your eyes that saved your life.”

Cas grinned, “So if they were _doodoo_ brown I would have been crucified on that cross huh?” Cas said in a joking tone.

“Yes.” Cas might have been joking, but Dean wasn't.

He rolled his eyes. “Glad they got my eyes wrong, we can use that to our advantage. I look kind of Asian in that sketch huh?”

Dean grimaced, glancing at it again. “Yeah. That’s kinda gross, honestly.”

“So what? Asian Castiel would be dead too?” Cas shook his head and sighed. “We probably shouldn’t be joking, I mean that really looks like you. This is bad.”

Dean rubbed his jaw, his eyes downcast toward his likeness. “She was clear across the damn street, how'd they get my chin so perfect?”

“Well first of all, your chin can cut down a tree and second, you’re fucking _gorgeous._ Of course she stared at you more. There’s also the fact that you were covered in blood. She felt you were more important to remember.” Cas touched Dean’s face. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“I’m the one that suggested it, Cas. And _then_ lost my cool. All you were trying to do was be a decent human and I fucked it up for you.” Dean leaned into Cas’ touch and suddenly realized that he turned Cas into a murderer. He closed his eyes, trying to stop the growing swell of voices in his mind.

Except Castiel was already a murderer. No, he hadn’t done it yet. But he would have, and finding Dean was probably the only thing that kept him from being murdered himself. “That was dumb. Me moving around furniture wasn’t going to fix anything. I’m a killer.”

Dean nodded but still didn’t look at him. “Did you feel better? Before I showed up, I mean.”

Cas shrugged, “I won’t lie, I did. But I was also bored and when you showed up, I was excited to see what I meant to you. Which sounds dumb to say out loud, but it’s the truth. The feelings I got from you killing for me, made me feel better than trying to be a decent human being... What does that say about me? Does that make me a narcissist?”

Dean opened his eyes. “No, Cas. It makes you a guy that was shunned by his entire fucking family simply for likin’ dick. It’s actually kinda textbook that you get off on the idea of someone actually giving a damn about you.”

“Which is probably why you have always made me feel so... _important._ Just the simple fact that you couldn’t kill me.” Cas touched his cheek, “Am I really the only one you couldn’t kill?”

“Yeah, you were.” Dean turned his head to kiss Cas’ palm. “No one was more surprised than me, but the thought of actually following through with it made me nauseous.”

Castiel grinned, “See that just made me so hard.” He adjusted himself in his jeans.

Dean laughed. “Seriously? The thought of me puking made your dick hard?”

“Don’t judge me.” Cas pushed Dean’s head playfully. “It had nothing to do with the puke and everything to do with the fact that I had any affect on you at all.”

“Yeah, well... you did.” Dean leaned in and kissed Cas, pulling their hips together and biting his lip.

“Correction, I _do.”_ Cas bit Dean’s lip back with a grin. “Is it really just the eyes, or you love this ass too?” Cas moved his hips in a circle.

Dean ran his hands over his angels body, his eyes darkening with lust. “It’s all of you, Cas. You know that.” He grabbed a handful of Cas’ hair and tugged back, exposing his neck. “Every inch of you is perfect, and every fucking centimeter is _mine.”_ He leaned down, biting possessively at the tender skin.

Cas groaned and hardened at the bite, he fucking _loved_ when Dean bit on him. He had a giant hickey from the night before and still wanted more. He was _Dean’s_ and it filled him with a sense of belonging he’s never had before.

“Take off your damn clothes. _Now.”_ Dean flicked his tongue over one of the darkest bruises and stepped back, undressing himself as Cas did the same. Dean’s eyes landed on his angel just as Cas was about to take off a pair of blood red satin panties and he growled, slamming Cas against the wall and pinning his hands above his head. ”No. Those _stay.”_ Dean crushed his mouth to his and kept him caged against that wall, his own cock trailed precum against Cas’ stomach.

Cas groaned and let Dean have full control. He enjoyed giving him control now and letting Dean take anything he wanted from him. He still had to bite back his smart ass comments but he was getting better at it. Dean’s cock on his stomach made him smile into the kiss, loving how much Dean wanted him.

Dean’s hands roamed over those satin panties and he growled into Cas’ mouth. “Get on the bed on all fours, I want a good view while you suck me off.”

Grinning, Castiel made his way to the bed, doing exactly what he was told. Only _Dean_ had ever been able to get Cas to listen this way and releasing that control was freeing.

“Good boy, this is so much easier when you just _listen.”_ Dean kneeled in front of Cas on the bed, taking a moment to appreciate the gorgeous arch of his back and the way the smooth material cupped his ass like it was a delicious, crimson present. He stroked his own cock in front of his angel’s face and brought his eyes down to it. “Want it?”

Castiel nodded, licking his lips. “Want it... need it.” He didn’t comment on the listening part, he knew he was a brat most days but he really liked the praise.

Dean smiled, running his hand through Cas’ hair as he slid into his open, eager mouth. He groaned when Cas’ hot, wet tongue flicked over the sensitive skin of his cockhead and pushed in deeper.

Cas moaned, loving how full Dean made him feel whether it was his mouth or his ass. He let Dean slide in at his own pace, sucking more with each inch.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. Holy shit.” Dean pressed up against the back of Cas’ throat and punched out a moan, holding his hips still and watching Cas’ ass wiggle.

Cas would have smiled if he could, but Dean is his throat kept that from happening, so he groaned at the praise, humming on Dean’s cock.

Dean snapped his hips without warning, his cock forcing its way into Cas’ throat and making him gag. Dean throbbed at the sound, and it only egged him on. With a tight grip on Cas’ onyx locks, he held his angel in place until his eyes were watering and the lack of air was making him squirm. He pulled Cas off by the hair and leaned down, kissing his spit-slicked, abused lips.

Cas groaned when he pulled out, gasping slightly for air, and he surprisingly _loved_ it. He was Dean’s, to use as he pleased.

Dean moved behind Cas, leaning down and flicking his tongue over Cas’ hole. He slid two fingers into him then, reaching between Cas’ legs to stroke his cock. “Stay still, angel. I’m just getting started with you.”

Cas stayed still for a bit before he decided to get a little bratty, he pushed back onto Dean’s fingers, which made Dean smack Cas’ ass hard with his palm. “Coulda sworn I told you to stay _still,_ Cas.” He shoved his fingers in deeper.

Cas groaned, a huge grin on his face. “Sorry Dean. I’ll be a good boy.”

“Course you will.” Dean cracked his hand down in the same spot, then raked his nails over the reddening skin. “Don’t bullshit me, angel, we both know why you disobeyed.” He pulled his fingers out and spread Cas open, nudging the tip of his cock against his hole and breaching it, but then pulled back out and spanked Cas again. “This what you want, angel? Want me to spank you till the pain makes your dick throb and you’re begging me to fuck you into the mattress?”

Cas cried out happily and nodded, “Yes, Dean. Please.” _Fuck!_ He said _please,_ he had done _so_ well not begging but he finally slipped... _again!_

Dean’s cock pulsed at the sound of those words and he chuckled low, striking the skin again and again. “Want it harder, Cas? Think you can handle it?” He watched the globe of that beautiful ass shake and bounce under the force of the next hit, focused in the same spot.

It fucking stung, and Castiel? He _loved_ it! “Ah! Fuck! _More.”_ He gripped the sheets below him, tears forming in his eyes.

Dean curled his fingers in a circle and dug his nails into the raw flesh. “Is that how you ask for things?”

Cas cried out again. “Sorry, _please_ more.” He had tears running down his face now. “Please fuck me into the mattress, Dean.”

“Soon, baby.” Dean’s hands snaked their way around Cas’ flushed body and pulled him up until his back was arching against Dean’s torso. He bit his angel’s shoulder hard enough to draw tiny little droplets of blood and then kissed his neck, the gesture incredibly tender by comparison. “I want you to bleed for me first.” Dean’s tongue flicked out to wipe the tears from Cas’ cheek as his hands parted ways, one gliding up to squeeze his lover’s neck and the other heading down to his leaking cock.

Cas let Dean move him in any way he wanted, completely compliant in his arms. When Dean said he wanted him to bleed, his cock twitched. “Cut me…” He whispered breathlessly.

“Mmm. See, now _there’s_ my good boy.” Dean released Cas and slid off the bed, his cock bouncing with every movement. He bent over and rummaged around in the zipper compartment of his bag until he found a razor and quickly dismantled it, pulling out a single blade. He stood up, admiring the flash of light off the cold metal.

Cas felt a chill travel up his spine when Dean got off the bed. He bit his lip until it bled, waiting anxiously.

Dean stalked back over to the bed with a mix of fire and ice in his eyes, making the normal green so bright and intense it was hard to look at. “Lay on your back.” When Cas moved, Dean crawled up between his legs and eyed his angel’s gorgeous torso. He set the razor down long enough to thrust his cock inside of Cas, hissing at the way the tight ring of muscle initially fought him and then pulled him in. “You like it when I fuck you dry, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question, and Dean had the razor back in his hand before Cas could answer. “I’m gonna sit right here, splitting you open as you bleed for me. I’m not gonna move, and you’re not gonna fuck yourself on my cock until I say it’s okay, do you understand?”

Castiel was panting under Dean, feeling completely exposed and _owned._ He nodded, like the _good boy_ he is, shaking from the adrenaline at the thought of bleeding for Dean.

Dean pinched his tongue between his teeth as he leaned forward, driving himself further inside of Cas as he started carving. He made sure not to cut too deep, but he made a single horizontal line underneath Cas’ left peck and then started back at the top of it, curving out and bringing it down to the bottom.

_D._

Cas whimpered as he carved, he couldn’t see _what_ it was, but he _knew._ He could see the blood and more importantly, the primal look in Dean’s eyes, the green almost nonexistent.

“You okay, angel?” Dean’s voice was wrecked with lust but at least he asked. “Remember your safeword?”

Cas nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, Dean. _Poughkeepsie._ But I’m nowhere near that, baby.” He could hardly talk but he was still very much here for this. “Mark me yours.”

Dean kissed him quickly and then continued to cut, this time slicing a diagonal line southeast, then up and away from the first. He repeated that same action, his breath catching in his lungs at the sight of the blood painting his gorgeous angel’s chest.

_W._

Cas hissed at the sting and clenched, trying to hold back the cry in his throat. When Dean did the last line, he grunted and almost pulled away. “Fuck... Dean,” he whispered.

“Shhh, angel.” Dean tosses the razor onto the bedside table and leaned down, kissing Cas gently. “You’re mine now. I’ve got you.” He thrusted in again and this time, he didn’t stop.

Cas was completely fucked out and he hadn’t even come yet. He bared his neck again, completely at Dean’s mercy.

“Fuck, you’re perfect just like _this.”_ Dean ran his thumb over the blood on Cas’ chest and brought it to his mouth, sucking it off as he began fucking into Cas faster. He growled at the sight of his initials carved into that beautiful creature and wrapped his hand around Cas’ cock, pumping quickly. “Gonna come for me, baby? You know I marked you with my initials, right? I’ll show you how pretty you look when we’re done.”

Cas moaned and nodded, “Please let me come.” But before Dean could answer, Castiel came. _Hard._ The mention of Dean’s initials being carved in his chest pushed him over and after, all he felt was shame. “Oh fuck! I’m sorry... I’m sorry.” He whispered, completely breathless.

Dean worked him through it and then pulled out, moving to Cas’ side and stroking his cock violently while staring at his initials. The blood, the possession, the fucked out sounds Cas was making... Dean came, his hips bucking and his come covering Cas’ stomach.

Castiel was completely out of serotonin, the last drop of any positive endorphin was spread across his belly, mixed with Dean’s come. And tears threatened to escape. “Fuck…” He whimpered.

Dean frowned, that was _not_ the look he was used to seeing on his angel’s face after sex. “Cas?”

He covered his face and took long deep breaths repeating three words over and over in his mind, _Don’t fucking cry! Don’t fucking cry!_

Alarms were going off in Dean’s head and he immediately checked the cuts he’d made. He didn’t go too deep, didn’t sever anything vital. He was dumbfounded about what had gone wrong, and then he was taken back in his mind to their second encounter, when Cas had dropped and run away. He licked his lip nervously, he had no fucking idea how to care for someone dealing with that. “Can I... get you... any...thing?”

Cas shook his head, not trusting his voice. He _hated_ the drop. It didn’t happen often but it was as though he had no control of his emotions. Silent tears fell down his face as he continued to shake his head.

“Fuck, okay. Uhh…” Dean slid off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, coming out a few minutes later with an armful of shit. He gingerly sat down next to Cas, who had rolled on his side and was facing away from him. “Cas, listen. I’m not good at this shit, but let me try, okay?”

Cas’ eyes were closed and he nodded. Of course he would let Dean try, but he was still embarrassed. All he could think about is how Dean said how pretty he was like _this._ As if he wasn’t pretty otherwise. And what if he _wasn’t_ okay with the blood, would Dean have killed him months ago? Or would Dean kill him tomorrow if he decided he wasn’t on board for one of his kinks? Would he just get bored one day and kill him? Did he even care about Castiel? Dean carved his initials into Cas’ chest and he still had no idea what Dean’s last name even was. Was _any_ of this real?

Dean gently rolled Cas toward him and began cleansing the blood from his chest. He kept flicking his eyes to Cas’ face and back down to the wounds as he added ointment and finally gauze to protect them. He leaned down and planted a kiss to the corner of the bandage and then made a quick trip to the bathroom to clean and rinse the rag before coming back out to continue wiping Cas down. He had no idea what was going on in his angel’s head or how normal people dealt with shit like this, but he tried to focus on what he’d want if he suddenly felt like shit after getting off. The answer was pretty simple... to be clean, fed, and to take a damn nap.

Cas laid there, letting Dean take care of him the best he could and honestly... it was enough. Cas didn’t need words at this moment, he needed action, and his devil _was_ a man of action. Not being able to meet Dean’s eyes had nothing to do with Dean, and all to do with Castiel’s shame.

Dean grabbed a pair of clean shorts from Cas' bag and made a mental note that they needed to do laundry again. He gave Cas quiet, whispered instructions as he slid the shorts onto his angel's body and then he turned around, scratching the back of his head. He was grasping at straws and didn't know what else to do, but he was thirsty so he figured Cas might be too. He grabbed them each a Gatorade and went back to the bed. “Orange, right?”

Dean taking such good care of Cas helped. If this dark cloud wasn’t over his head, he might have smiled at the fact that Dean gave him the last orange Gatorade. But all he had the energy to do was nod. Cas took a small drink from the bottle and rolled back over, hoping the drop would be over after a nap.

“Can I...?” Dean flipped off the lights and walked carefully through the dark back to bed. He slid in under the covers on Cas’ other side and rolled toward him. It was an awkward couple of seconds as he convinced himself to just cuddle with Cas and tried to find a position where he wouldn’t hurt him, but he managed. His hand splayed across his angel’s belly and he kissed the back of his shoulder before laying his head down and maneuvering one of his legs between Cas’. “This okay?”

Castiel spoke for the first time, his voice small and weak. “Of course.” He touched Dean’s hand and closed his eyes.

A flash of anger coursed through Dean’s body at the sound of Cas’ voice. Not anger _at_ Cas, but at himself for doing anything to make his angel sound like that. For the third time, he felt the need to apologize but all he did was close his own eyes and try to force himself to sleep. Hopefully, things would be back to normal in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers halfheartedly* sorry?


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think “the road to Hell is paved with good intentions” is an apt summary for this chapter.

Castiel felt better. Yeah, it had been three days but he finally felt like himself again. They had sex in that time of course, but it was different. It was as if Dean knew Cas needed a little... _more_. He wouldn’t say they ‘made love’, but it was as close to it as Castiel has ever gotten. Or maybe it _was_ making love? He wouldn’t know, and also wasn’t sure it mattered. 

But today, he was back to his normal, bratty self and he was ready to dig in some pockets.

Dean scanned the bar as he took a long sip of whiskey and pulled it through his teeth. “We need to be careful, Cas. Some of these guys look a little mean.” He smirked at the thought that _anyone_ could be meaner than they were, but it still wasn’t something they should mess around with.

Cas huffed a laugh and slid off the barstool, making his way around the bar. They never acted like they were together when they were out, it kept more doors open that way.

Dean watched Cas for a few minutes as he let the whiskey relax him. He knew it wasn’t wise to get drunk, they may have to make a run for it at any moment now that those sketches had made the national news. They probably shouldn’t have been hustling at all, but he’d hoped a run-down biker bar would be full of people that didn’t watch the news, or at the very least, wouldn’t pay close enough attention to it to remember a couple of bad drawings. Sure enough, no one seemed to look twice at them. When he was satisfied they were in a relatively safe environment and were likely the two most dangerous people there, Dean slid off his barstool and intentionally staggered toward the pool table, appearing much more intoxicated than he actually was. He listened to the drunken bikers argue over whose turn it was for a moment but quickly got bored and spoke up. “Hey now, why don’t we just start over? You two against me.” He dropped the little bit of cash they had left on the table and picked up a cue stick to lean on it. The bikers eyed him and seemed to agree it would be an easy win, so the larger of the two re-racked and leaned over to break. 

Castiel had made his way to flirt with some women. They did nothing for him, but they didn’t need to know that. Women meant purses and all he had to do was flash his eyes at them and they would eat out of the palm of his hand. He glanced over at Dean and saw he was getting to work, and couldn’t help but flash him a sly smile before going back to his conversation. 

Dean played like hell on purpose, only sinking enough shots to keep himself in the game and make it look like a lucky win when he finally hit the eight ball in the corner pocket. He stood up, swaying on his feet and plastered a relieved grin on his face. “Whoa, guys, that was scary! I thought I was gonna lose there for a minute. Guess it’s my lucky night!” Dean was basically sober, but glad to see his drunken act panned out. The men paid up begrudgingly, and Dean pretended to take pity on them. “C’mon, let’s go double or nothing.” He hiccuped and covered his mouth with the back of his hand, laughing quietly. The two bikers looked between themselves and had a quick discussion, convincing themselves that there was no way _‘that drunken idiot’_ could beat them again. They agreed, and Dean began dancing with his cue stick to keep up the illusion as he once again allowed the larger man to break, despite the fact that he’d won.

Cas had already taken this woman’s loose dollars but he was entertaining her anyway, seeing as she just got him a drink. He kept glancing at Dean and the woman even commented on ‘that man’ being too handsome to be such a sloppy drunk. Cas laughed it off, knowing damn well Dean was sober. But he _did_ look very handsome.

Dean played like his life was on the line the second game, and it only took him three turns to finish the game. Maybe he shouldn’t have made such a complete 180, but the first game took longer than he wanted it to and he desperately needed to get back to the safety of solitude. He wasn’t worried about Cas, he’d marked a couple of chicks so there was virtually nothing dangerous about that, but they were still in a sketchy bar and were technically wanted men. He quickly collected his winnings, but the men were angry. They’d finally worked out that they’d been hustled, so Dean put on his best charming smile as the two beefy men tried to corner him. “Listen, fellas. I told ya it was just my lucky night. You guys might’ve won, but this one,” Dean took a moment to poke the smaller one in the chest, “kept staring at _your...”_ he poked the other one, “ass and missing his shots. Discuss.” Dean stepped back slowly as the larger man rounded on the other one, and hastened to get Cas’ attention. The two men started fighting and throwing homophobic slurs at each other, and Dean dashed out the door.

The woman screamed when the fight broke out and tried to hide behind Cas, but he’d seen Dean’s signal. “Sorry sweetheart, I gotta go. Have a good night.” He instantly made his way towards the door, but one of the men slammed into him as he tried to sneak by and he was suddenly happy Dean was already gone. His protective devil wouldn’t have let that slide, especially when he nearly fell over. But he caught himself on the bar, swiped the asshole’s wallet and made his way outside, heading straight for Baby.

Dean had the car started already and once Cas got in, he took off. He was laughing, his eyes lighting up in a way they hadn’t in a long, long time. “That was a fuckin’ _riot.”_

Dean’s laugh was contagious and Cas joined in. “That was a great distraction actually, I was able to grab another wallet on the way out.” 

“Fuckin’ awesome! Maybe we can get some real food tomorrow for a change.” Dean reached over and took Cas’ hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Their fingers interlocked happily, without either of them thinking twice. Maybe it _felt_ natural, because it _was_ natural. These fingers were made to be together. Castiel smiled over at Dean. “Real food sounds amazing.”

Dean grinned. “Then tomorrow. We go on a real date.”

Cas rolled his eyes and bit back a smile. “Our first date?” He laughed. They definitely did this backwards. He had Dean’s initials carved into his body and they were about to have a first date. Which reminded him, “Dean, what’s the _W_ for?”

“Huh?” Dean squinted at him for a moment and then realized what he must have been talking about. “Oh, my last name. Winchester. You didn’t know that?”

Cas shook his head. “Nope. Do you know mine?” He asked in a doubtful tone.

“Novak.” Dean raised his eyebrows and pulled his hand back to park the car. “I did my research after you escaped me the first time, there aren’t many people in this country with your first name.”

Castiel squinted his eyes, “You _googled_ me? Really Dean? Too bad Dean is too all-American for me to google you without a last name.”

“If I had a name like yours, I’d have lied about it. Not because it isn’t a cool name, but for that exact reason.” Dean got out and went inside the motel room, dropping his bag and pulling off his shirt.

He shrugged and followed. _That was a good point._ He normally _did_ lie, but for some reason, he’d wanted Dean to call him by his real name, even then. “How many ways did you spell it before you got it right?”

“Two, I think. Tried with two s’s first.”

Cas grinned, “Not too bad. You just typed it as if you were moaning my name, which makes perfect sense seeing as how that _was_ all you were able to do. _Casstiel…”_ He made a fake moaning sound.

Dean threw his shirt at Cas but returned the smile. “Very funny, pornstar.” He shimmied out of his jeans and crawled into bed in just his boxers. “I kinda can’t believe I carved my initials into your body and you’ve been walking around for days not knowing what the _W_ stood for.”

Cas watched him strip before doing the same, “I meant to ask that day but I was a little distracted.” They hadn’t spoken of that drop yet and Cas didn’t want to.

An uncomfortable laugh worked its way out of Dean. “Yeah, I can imagine.” He rolled over onto his stomach, sliding his arms under the pillow. “We’re good though, right?”

Cas climbed into bed in just his green panties and straddled Dean’s back, leaning down to kiss along the back of his neck, “Yes. You good?” He still didn’t want to talk about it. But that was fine, because Dean didn’t know _how_ to talk about it.

Dean moaned quietly into his pillow and nodded against the fabric. “Yeah. Awesome.”

“Mmm good.” He kissed along the soft sensitive skin behind Dean’s ear and then swiftly rolled off, plopping on the bed, next to Dean. “Night.”

Dean shuddered but closed his eyes. “Yeah, angel. Night.”

The next day Dean kept his word and took Cas out for a proper date. He knew this wasn’t the best time, but he had a feeling their days were numbered no matter what they did and he was determined not to waste a second of it. That happened to extend to _all_ aspects of his life, so Dean’s eyes were glued to the loner in the corner very clearly trying to appear invisible. Cas was talking to him, but he missed the words entirely. “Sorry,

Cas frowned, “Who are you watching?” He asked in a knowing tone. He could tell Dean was distracted and there was only one thing that would distract him from Cas: a _toy._

Dean pulled his eyes back to the table and took a bite of his steak. “Nothin’. No one. Whatever. How’s your food?”

He narrowed his eyes. “It’s fine. Dean…” Cas grabbed his hand, “No.”

Dean shifted in his seat and lowered his voice, his eyes glinting. “Cas, he’s right there. C’mon, it’s been _weeks.”_ His hand twitched under Cas’ and he licked his lips, his eyes darting back to the man across the room.

“Dean... we can’t. If we do, we have to be much more careful than this. You need blood?” He trailed off and looked around. “I’ll bleed for you. But we need to leave this busy city as soon as possible.”

“Fuck.” Dean closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, white knuckling his steak knife. “Just gimme a sec, I’ll be fine. Eat your dinner, Cas. I’m not gonna ruin this.”

Dean antsy for a kill and clenching a knife had Cas’ dick hard in seconds. “Fuck... let’s go. We can take the food to go.”

“What?” Dean opened his eyes and recognized the look on Cas’ face, which promised sex better than _any_ kill. He flagged down their waitress and got their food boxed up, paid in cash, and they walked out to the Impala with their heads down. Dean threw the boxes in the back seat and relaxed his shoulders once they were back on the road - but his hands were wrapped tight around the wheel.

Cas bit at his lip for a moment before sliding over and reached for Dean’s pants. “Keep your eyes on the road and find somewhere to park.” He lowered his head into Dean’s lap and pulled him out of his boxers.

“Fuck, Cas!” Dean’s eyes darted down to what was happening in his lap and he quickly looked back up at the road. He wasn’t hard to begin with, but he was _quickly_ getting there. He began looking for a place to pull off that wouldn’t be conspicuous.

Cas slid Dean inside his mouth, knowing this was about to drive him crazy. He bobbed and hummed, pulling out all of his tricks to get a reaction out of Dean, so when they finally found a spot to pull over he would be so turned on he would fuck Cas’ ass _up._

Dean lost count of how many times he nearly wrecked the Impala as he searched for a spot to pull over. He finally did, and as soon as his shaky hand threw the car in park, he pulled Cas off of him. “Get out of the damn car.”

Cas instantly complied, nearly giggling as he jumped out, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as Dean rounded on him.

“Bend over the hood. Pull your jeans down, nothing else.”

Cas pulled down his pants and bent over as told, his lacey black panties on display for Dean.

Dean tucked himself back into his jeans for the time being and brought his hand down with a _crack_ on Cas’ ass. “I almost wrecked my car. That wasn’t a very _angelic_ thing for you to do.”

Cas cried out and laughed, “Fuck! More.” He growled, chewing his lip.

Dean smiled to himself for just a moment. He had no intention of actually punishing Cas, he’d loved every second of what happened in that car but he knew how much Cas enjoyed this, so he obliged. His hand stung when he pulled away from the second smack, and by the fifth, his palm was throbbing.

“Fuck... fuck me... please.” Cas begged without an ounce of shame. His cock felt hard and heavy against the hood of Dean’s car.

“Thought you’d never ask, angel. Just one more thing…” Dean squatted down behind Cas and pulled those black panties down, then spread Cas apart and licked a slow, thick line over his hole before diving in completely.

Cas groaned loudly and tossed his head back. “Fuck Dean, so fucking good!” He pushed back into Dean, his hard cock throbbing against the cold metal was starting to hurt.

Dean kept going, sliding two fingers in with his tongue until Cas was a squirming, moaning mess, and then he finally stood up. He released himself from his jeans again and pushed Cas flat against the hood of the Impala and slid inside of him with a sudden thrust, moaning his name as he started quickly fucking into him. “That what you wanted, angel?”

“Oh. Shit. Fuck. Yes.” Cas was already a mess, crumbling under Dean’s touch and when Dean gripped his hair he thought he would come. He always eventually regretted the lack of lube, but in the moment, he fucking _loved_ the pain. Especially when he was already so worked up. “Shit I’m close, fuck, Dean…”

Dean reached around and squeezed Cas’ cock, barreling into him. “Come for me, angel.”

“Oh fu…” But he didn’t finish that word, before he was grunting and rutting into Dean’s fist.

“So fucking hot.” Dean bit down where Cas’ neck meets his shoulder and buried himself inside of him as he released.

They stayed together as they came down, moving their bodies as if they were one. Cas absolutely _loved_ when Dean was buried deep inside him, placing soft kisses and nips to the nape of his neck. It was a stark contrast to the violent nature of the actual sex, but it was exactly what Cas needed. 

After a few moments of Dean’s head resting between Cas’ shoulder blades as they both allowed their breathing to even out, Dean pulled out with a reluctant groan. “We should keep moving.” He pulled Cas up and turned him around, kissing him long and slow.

Cas felt him dripping out and smiled, he imagined Dean didn’t come inside of a lot of people, seeing as he murdered them all. It was another one of those things that made him feel special. “Yeah, we should. I needed that though.” He sighed happily.

“I think we both did, honestly. C’mon.” Dean fixed his pants and got back in the car.

Cas cleaned what he could before pulling up his pants and climbing in the car. “I’ll definitely have to use the next pit stop.”

And so they traveled, stopping only long enough to do what was absolutely needed. Dean wasn’t quite aware yet, but he was traveling back in direction of where their journey all started: Sioux Falls, SD. It had been a couple of weeks since Dean’s near unraveling at the restaurant but true to his word, Cas had bled for him. He’d also dropped again, and Dean wasn’t all that much better at handling it then than he had been the first two times.

They’d spent the night in Missouri, and when Dean woke up to the sunrise he found Cas still sleeping soundly. They needed to go on a supply run, they were out of nearly everything and they’d already been out of clean clothes for a couple of days, but he didn’t want to disturb his angel. Dean smiled fondly down at his healed initials permanently scarred into Cas’ chest and got dressed quietly, gathering the clothes and heading out to his car.

Dean’s first stop was the laundromat. It was still early enough in the day that he was alone in the dingy building which was good, he wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to cope if there was someone else in the place that looked like an easy target. It had been _too_ long since Dean had killed and it was making him antsy. He quickly stuffed the cleaned clothes back into the Impala and went to grab some basic necessities and groceries with the money they’d gotten from Cas pickpocketing a couple of nights previous. He filled up the gas tank and grabbed a pack of cigarettes... he wasn’t much of a smoker, but if he didn’t find something other than Cas’ blood to calm the voices soon he was going to end up either killing Cas on accident or going on a spree.

He was driving back to the motel to wake Cas up and hit the road again when he spotted a library. Dean licked his lip, attempting to convince himself _not_ to go in - but something had been nagging at him for quite some time now and he needed an internet connection to figure it out. He figured that on his own he might not be as noticeable, so he pulled into the parking lot and shuffled inside, attempting to look as small and non-threatening as possible.

The problem with that was that Dean Winchester was over 6 ft tall and looked like he’d grown up on a farm, despite the fact that the truth was quite the opposite. He had a slightly feral look in his eyes that never quite went away, and more often than not people took enough notice to steer clear unless he was intentionally trying to charm them. Today was one of those days.

He approached the tiny librarian and half smiled at her, relaxing his body language and leaning on the counter in a fake show of comfortability. If you acted like you belonged somewhere, chances were good people would believe you. The librarian seemed to believe him at any rate and she handed over the login for one of the computers in the corner. He sat down and was suddenly nervous. _Would she be able to see what I’m looking up? Would she care? Do I care if she cares?_

Dean decided it didn’t matter what she thought, he’d come this far and he owed Cas at least this much. He googled variations of the phrase _‘how to handle subdrop’_ until he found a relatively helpful article that gave him some basic knowledge of how to both prevent it from happening and deal with it in the event that it happened anyway. Most of it wasn’t as far out of his wheelhouse as he thought, so he jotted a couple of things down on a piece of paper from a pad that was sitting by the computer for free use and logged back off. When he looked back up at the librarian, her facial expression had gone from curious and inviting to pale and almost... _scared._ Dean’s panic level rose, but there was no way she knew, right?

From the way she was slowly backing away from him and whispering under her breath like she was praying to some higher power that didn’t give a damn about her, Dean was pretty fucking sure she knew.

He kept his steps controlled and he smiled at her, offering a ‘thanks’ for the computer use and walking swiftly out of the library and back to the safety of his car. He called Cas’ phone repeatedly until he woke up and answered, told him to pack the rest of the shit and be out front in ten minutes, and then stepped on the gas. He had no idea if she’d told anyone or not, or if she did... how much time they had before the fucking SWAT teams descended. They needed to get out of town like _yesterday,_ and Dean mentally kicked himself for going somewhere _that_ public for something so stupid. He could have just asked Cas what he needed to feel better in situations like that, especially because the end of the article had read something like ‘but each submissive is different, and your best course of action is to encourage communication with your sub to find out what they personally need from you as both a dom and a partner.’

Dean finally pulled into the motel and Cas was waiting outside. Cas tossed the bags in the car and slid in, and Dean had taken off again before he’d even had the door completely shut.

Cas didn’t ask questions until they were on the road again. “What happened Dean? Are we fucked?” Dean’s calls had scared the shit out of Cas and he needed to know how much time they had.

“I don’t know, Cas.” Dean rubbed his jaw and tried to follow his map to take back roads out of town. “I’m pretty sure someone recognized me and figured it was better to get out as fast as we can just in case.”

He nodded. _Okay, this they can handle. Right?_

They made their way to the North side of town, searching for an exit, only to find a checkpoint. “Oh fuck.” Cas reached over and gripped Dean’s hand. Whatever was about to happen, would happen to them together.

Dean clenched his jaw and looked for another way out but there was none, and if they turned around it would be even more suspicious. He squeezed Cas’ hand and looked at him. “You listen to me. If we get busted here, you tell them I fucking kidnapped you. Run with the story they ran in the paper. I kidnapped you and it was all me, you got that? This isn’t a fucking request, Cas.”

“Fuck no! Why the fuck would I do that, Dean?! _Together._ You said that, remember?” Cas felt like the walls were closing in, he couldn’t breathe. “I’ll fucking stab all these motherfuckers if you make me. Fuck your _not_ request.”

Dean didn’t have time to argue with him. He stopped the car at the checkpoint and a greasy looking cop knocked on Dean’s window with a nightstick. He rolled his window down and tried with everything in him to remain calm. “What’s goin’ on, Officer? You need me to take a breathalyzer or something?”

The cop leaned down to look in the car, shining his flashlight in each of their faces and then the backseat despite the fact that it was still daylight.

“This’a mighty nice car you got there, boy. We been on the lookout for one’a these.” The cop pointed the beam of blinding light right at Dean’s face, but he barely flinched. The cop continued, “Witha driver looks a lot like you, if this here police sketch is anything to go by.” He stood straighter then, pulling a crinkled piece of paper from his pocket and attempting to smooth it out while still holding his flashlight. “Yep, I’m no Picasso, but let’s see that Mona Lisa smile for the camera, shall we?”

Dean was thoroughly annoyed and never was very good at hiding that. “First of all, I don’t see a camera. Second of all, Leonardo da Vinci painted the Mona Lisa, not Picasso, and third…” Dean nodded toward the picture. “Whatcha got there?”

The cop handed Dean the photo and examined it with him. “Yeah see, that looks an awful lot like you.”

Cas leaned over, “Not to me. And this man is my hero.”

“Hero? What kinda _hero?”_ the officer asked. 

“He saved me. I was being beaten and raped daily by my... pimp.” Cas looked away as if he was about to cry.

Dean blinked at the photo but didn’t miss a beat at Cas’ story. He poked the picture of Cas, “Look at that, the eyes are all wrong. And his bags are in the trunk, if you don’t believe him. I’m trying to get him outta the city.”

The cop leaned in further, crowding Dean’s space and Dean’s hand twitched on his own knee. The cop was so close to his face that Dean could smell his breath as he spoke to Cas. “Yeah? You got bruises from supposedly getting your ass beat over and over, _whore?“_

Dean’s entire body tensed at the insult and he couldn’t stop the voices in his mind from reminding him how close he was to the officer’s jugular. Just a couple of quick movements and they’d be on their way…

Cas was a great actor, he flinched at the word _whore_ and looked at the ground with a small nod. He rolled up his sleeves and showed the man some bruises he’d gotten from sex with Dean and lifted up his shirt to show more. “There’s more but they’re in places you can’t see unless i’m naked, Sir.” He hated adding the word _Sir_ and wished he could stab him in the face.

The cop got a dangerously lusty look in his eyes. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to take a little look-see then, hmm? Step out of the vehicle.”

Dean’s jaw clenched and he spoke up. “Aren’t you supposed to ask for my license and shit?” He’d never had a legitimate license and his fake ID expired years ago, but changing the course of this conversation was paramount to _everyone’s_ safety.

The Officer clicked his tongue. “See, I took a certain little _oath_ that requires me to a-thoroughly investigate all claims of a crime bein’ committed made in my presence. If your little damsel in distress here says he’s been assaulted, I’m gonna need the... _fuller_ details.”

His tone told Dean everything he needed to know about what this officer’s intentions were, and it was becoming harder and harder for Dean to not rip his throat out with his bare fucking hands.

Cas grabbed Dean’s hand and forced him to look at him, giving him a slow nod with a sad look in his eyes.

They shared a moment full of unspoken words before Cas climbed out of the car and walked over by the cop’s cruiser. The bastard wasn’t wasting any time and began unbuckling his pants. “Come on now, on your knees. If this ain’t good, that little story was bullshit and I’m taking you both in.”

Dean gripped the steering wheel so tightly he thought his knuckles would snap under the pressure. It was broad fucking daylight and they were in too public of a spot for Dean to be able to do a goddamned thing to help his angel. He’d never felt more helpless or disgusted in his life, but in that moment he knew Cas was their only shot at getting out of this alive, free and together.

Cas made it good. Not his best, this disgusting man didn’t deserve his best. But he was sure this was still the cops best blowjob of his life and he came in less than two minutes.

It took everything for Cas to swallow this man’s nasty seed. He wanted nothing more than to spit it out or puke all over his shoes but he grabbed Cas’ head and slammed his disgusting cock into Cas’ throat when he came and didn’t move him until he was finished.

The cop grunted as he stuffed himself back into his pants. “No wonder your pimp beat you, a decent whore would’ve at least pretended to enjoy it.”

Dean had the radio up as loud as he dared in an attempt to drown out the nausea-inducing moans that fucking pig made. There was sweat coating his skin and his tongue was bleeding from biting it so hard, but he finally risked a glance over to Cas and saw him getting to his feet again.

Cas didn’t say anything to that comment. He walked back over to the car and slid inside, staring out the window in silence.

The cop walked over and eyed Dean, “I’m sorry, was that your boyfriend? You fell in love with a whore? Bad choice, son. Go on now.” He obnoxiously adjusted his cock and took a step back.

Dean looked at the cop then, noting his badge and memorizing every single inch of his face. He didn’t know how or when, but one day... Officer Alastair was going to know exactly how much Dean loved the man he’d just abused. He shrugged. “That’s alright, man. He’s got AIDS, though. Got it from the pimp. Miiiight wanna get that checked out.” Dean knew that’s not how that worked, but by the horrified look on the cop’s face... he didn’t. Dean waved to him and drove off, not taking his eyes off the rear view mirror longer than necessary until he was sure they were in the clear.

Besides feeling disgusting, Cas had to huff a laugh at that and hoped the guy lost sleep over it.

After a few moments of silence, Cas turned to Dean. “I hated that. I feel disgusting and yet I would rather that, than have you take the fall. Got it?”

Dean reached over and took Cas’ hand. He’d had some time to think about how to handle the situation, and his mind flashed back to the subdrop article he’d read. He squeezed his angel’s hand. “Thank you. Seriously, Cas. Thank you. You saved our asses.”

Cas nodded and turned away with a frown. “Wish we could have killed him.” He reached back and grabbed his toothbrush and a cup to brush his teeth, needing the man’s taste out of his mouth.

Dean looked around and grabbed a bottle of water for Cas, handing it to him. “One day, I _will.”_

Cas nodded and spit out the window, “Good.” He pushed in Dean’s cassette tape so they could hear some music as they drove out of town.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is a very brief, NOT graphic mention of someone else sexually assaulting a child in this chapter. If it helps, the guy gets what he deserves, but that comes in a slightly graphic scene involving genital mutilation. I’m normally not a huge fan of that myself so I can promise it’s quick and not overly explicit. 
> 
> If you’d like to skip that part, scroll until you see the paragraph that starts “The man’s scream echoed...” and you should be good. :) 
> 
> Unless of course, you’re also not a fan of homophobic slurs. There’s only one, but... it’s still there. 
> 
> We didn’t tag these things at the top because in our minds, they’re so brief and rare that we didn’t want people skipping out on the whole fic for them, when we could just warn at the beginning of the chapter in question. 
> 
> Carry on!

About a month later, they were in the middle of absolute nowhere. Dean wasn’t convinced the backwoods West Virginian town even had a name, but that suited him just fine. They’d been in town for a couple of days and were actively stalking an accused rapist that got off on a technicality. Cas had come up with the idea of choosing victims from the sex offender registry, and after he’d taught Dean how to actually access the internet on his burner phone that he’d previously thought incapable of such a thing, Dean got to work. He was still seething over Alastair and was going out of his fucking mind from not killing for so long, but they’d spent the last few weeks lying so low they were practically starving. They hadn’t risked staying in motels more than necessary, instead, they lived out of Baby and truck stop showers.

Dean followed his target out of the strip club they’d been at just off the highway with his hands in his pockets and his hood over his head. He stayed a few paces behind the man until they were safely in the darker part of the parking lot, and then he pounced, knocking him out. Cas had been on standby and already had the Impala’s trunk open. He quickly helped Dean get the man into the trunk and slammed it as Dean double checked their surroundings and got back in the car, driving away from the strip club as a savage grin spread across his face.

Castiel was excited, especially since he could feel how ready Dean was for this. He _needed_ this, and Cas wanted to help. This man deserved to die, in the worst possible way, and they were the ones that got to put out his light.

“Ready for this babe?” Cas asked with a grin. “I want to chop his dick off, that’s what all rapists deserve.” Cas didn’t count what Dean did to him as rape, because he wanted it. He was sure the 13 year old girl from this crime didn’t.

“Fuck, Cas. You have no god damn idea how ready I am.” Dean pulled into the parking lot of an old, defunct steel mill and got out of his car. They already had gloves on, Dean was done being sloppy with his kills and they’d taken every precaution this time. He popped the trunk and saw the piece of shit was still out cold, and together, he and Cas hauled the man’s dead weight inside of the building.

They already had the place set up before they grabbed him, making it a smooth transition from car to torture room, or as smooth as it could go when carrying such a large man but their adrenaline kept them going. They sat him in a chair, naked and handcuffed him down, waiting for him to wake up. “We should fuck right here so he wakes up to a show.” Cas walked over to Dean with his bottom lip between his teeth.

Dean reached up to touch Cas’ face but shook his head. “No. Marked for death or not, no one else gets to see you like that ever again.” He leaned down and kissed Cas softly, brushing his thumb over his angel’s cheek. “Let’s finish this one quickly.”

Dean viewed this as him killing a part of _himself_ that should have died a long time ago. He realized on the surface, him killing a rapist seemed incredibly hypocritical, but for him? This kill wasn’t sexual, it was a purge. Despite the fact that he was still and would always be a killer, Cas made him want to be better.

Cas nodded and stood aside. As much as he liked doing this, especially because he was a bad person, he knew Dean needed this more. “Have fun love. I want to watch.”

Dean smiled at the new pet name. “Thought you wanted to cut his dick off? You may wanna start with that, I’m only making two cuts.”

Cas walked over, “Fine, let me wake him up for you.” He grabbed his blade and walked over to the man’s flaccid penis and lifted it up. “Gross, glad I’m wearing gloves.” Placing the blade underneath the shaft, Cas slid once to split the skin. “Good morning.” He said, just as the man’s eyes fluttered open, and Castiel made sure _this_ man would _never_ rape again with one slice.

The man’s scream echoed through the steel mill and Dean stuck his finger in his ear, wiggling it and making a face. “Fuck, that was irritating.” 

There was blood spurting all over the place and for once, it did nothing for Dean but quiet the voices. He walked forward and watched for a moment, before slicing along his femoral artery and then immediately slit his throat. The man’s body jerked and seized as his screams turned to nothing more than choked off gurgles, and then he stilled. Dean cleaned his blade on the dead man’s clothes that were in a pile next to his body and turned to Cas. “Let’s clean up and get out of here, yeah?”

“Yeah, let’s.” Cas started to clean, noticing blood had splattered on his Bon Jovi t-shirt. “Fuck... I liked this shirt.”

Dean grinned. “I think it looks better now, to be honest.”

Cas rolled his eyes, “Dead or Alive, Dean. _Dead or Alive.”_ He shrugged off the shirt and tossed it in the pile to burn.

“Yeah, Cas. You and me... dead or alive.” Dean got back to work cleaning, then they lit the fire and high-tailed it out of there. Dean felt lighter on the drive to the next town than he had in ages, and it was because of that very thing that he chose to get a motel room. His body was sore from sleeping in the car for so long and he was sure Cas’ was too. They went inside and got into the shower, and Dean leaned down to kiss his initials on Cas’ chest. “I want yours too, y’know. Maybe not right this second, but... soon.”

“Why not right this second?” Cas asked with a grin before leaning forward and biting Dean’s neck. “There.”

Dean moaned quietly. “No, Cas, not just... not just any mark.”

Cas bit harder, this time drawing blood, “More?” He leaned on the other side and did the same.

Dean gasped and dug his nails into Cas’ skin. “Fuck! Cas... Jesus, I want you to carve your initials into me! Like I did to you.”

Cas took a step back and looked Dean in the eyes. “Say that again?” He whispered, his cock growing between them.

“You heard me, Cas. I’m every bit as much yours as you are mine, and you have no idea what you’ve done for me.” Dean’s fingertip traced his initials. “If you don’t want to, I get it.”

“I want to. I want to, _bad._ But I wasn’t going to ask. I was going to just do it one day.” He leaned in. “Fuck me, right _now.”_

Dean laughed and crashed his mouth to Cas’ and then spun him around, pushing him forward until Cas was forced to catch himself on the shower wall with his hands. Dean stroked himself, it wasn’t difficult to get his dick on board after Cas admitting he wanted it too, and then after a couple of minutes of Dean working Cas open with his fingers, he thrust in. “Fuck, your ass is amazing.”

Castiel was happy with Dean’s enthusiasm and was already a writhing mess by the time Dean slid inside him. “Fuck, your _cock_ is amazing.” He gripped Dean’s hand and lifted it to his throat. “Close your eyes. Picture the blood... can you see it? Fuck me while you think of it.” He pushed back to shove Dean in further.

Dean sucked in a breath and tightened his grip on Cas’ throat as he pictured that rapist’s body cut open. Now, away from the actual scene... Dean wasn’t sure he’d ever been more aroused in his life. Even buried inside of Cas and fucking into him as hard as their position would allow, his erection was almost fucking painful. “God damnit, Cas... keep... keep fucking talking.”

Cas huffed a laugh. “You picturing that blood, baby? Picture it running down my body, pouring down my ass and around your cock as you pound into me. Ah, fuck!” Cas moaned. “Fuck, so good. Dig your nails into my hip, like you fucking mean it.” He pushed back again.

Words utterly failed Dean, but his body responded to Cas on autopilot. His fingers bruised the soft skin of Cas’ hips as he imagined exactly the scene Cas laid out for him. Heat coiled in his gut and he sped up, using the momentum of their bodies and his iron grip to keep them upright. Dean was a moaning, _pleading_ mess, eventually finding enough words to beg Cas to keep going because he was _so fucking close._

Cas’ cock was throbbing as it painfully bumped into the shower wall. “Fuck!” He growled, pushing back as much as he could but Dean’s grip had him locked in place. “Bite me! Make me fucking bleed, Dean.” He couldn’t explain it, he needed the crimson liquid to come just as much as Dean did.

“Castiel!” Dean leaned in and bit his shoulder hard as he came, the rusty tang of Cas’ blood hitting the air and his tongue. He kept thrusting, milking himself dry inside of the angel that changed everything. Cas threw his head back in bliss, coming hard on the shower wall as soon as Dean’s teeth locked onto him.

“You’re right, Cas.” Dean dropped his head between his shoulders. “I want you to do it _now.”_

Cas would have come again at those words, if it was possible. “Get the blade,” he said breathlessly.

Dean shut the water off, choosing to ignore the fact that they’d never taken a more conventionally pointless shower. He stepped out and handed Cas a towel, then dried himself off a little before laying that same towel across the bed. He grabbed the blade, and when Cas joined him, he handed it to him. “I should have let you do this sooner.” Dean layed down on the bed, his eyes glued to his angel.

Cas dried off and then tossed the towel to straddle Dean, their spent cocks sitting heavily on Dean’s belly as he slid the blade around, watching Dean’s skin dance. “You _should_ have.”

Dean licked his lip and wondered just how much fun Cas was really gonna have with this, and how much he was actually about to enjoy it. The handful of times he’s bled himself have been near out of body experiences, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want Cas to get a little vicious. “You gonna make me pay for that?”

“Yes.” Cas began carving the _C_ with a grin on his face. “You know I have a middle name right?” He continued to carve and then lifted the bloody tip of the knife to his tongue. “But I’m just doing first and last like you did.” He started working on the _N_ next while he decided what else to do, because he didn’t want to stop there.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean gasped. It was painful, sure... but it felt like a natural extension of the purge he’d started earlier. With every centimeter of skin that tore under the tip of that blade, Dean came a little closer to a reality he’d felt disconnected from for years. “Spell your whole fucking name, I don’t care... just don’t fucking stop.” His hands fisted in the sheets and he gritted his teeth, his hips squirming.

Cas laughed and finished his initials and moved to the other side, his tongue poking out of his mouth as he drew a halo on the other side. “Now your angel is always with you.”

 _“Fuck!”_ The word was barely audible as Dean’s back arched off the bed, and if he hadn’t gotten off less than ten minutes ago, he’d be well on his way to doing it again. As it was, his spent cock twitched against his belly and goosebumps erupted over his skin as the fresh wave of blood trickled over his body.

Cas had no idea how intense this would be, it was as if they were both drugged on the sight of blood.

Without thinking, Cas leaned forward and started spreading the blood around, his cerulean eyes were almost glowing with pure feral desire.

Each pass of his angel’s fingers over the cuts he’d made had Dean shivering and thrusting into the air. It was strange, he still wasn’t hard and yet he felt like he was teetering right on the edge of release. It was fucking intoxicating. His eyes fluttered closed and he whispered Cas’ name.

Cas leaned down and crashed their mouths together for a sloppy, fiery kiss.

 _This_ was love.

And no, not the love you see on television. _This_ was raw devotion. _This_ wasn’t on television, because _this_ didn’t exist.

Dean barely had the self-awareness to kiss him back, but he willingly let himself get swept up in the kiss until he started to shake from the blood-letting. He was shivering cold, and gripped tight to Cas.

Cas used the towels to clean up the blood and then wrapped Dean in a blanket. He grabbed their kit and put a bandage on the cuts so they could lay together. “You okay baby?” Cas ran his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Yeah, angel. I’m good.” Dean smiled and kissed his wrist. “Promise.”

“Good. We’ll take a real shower in the morning.” Cas’ eyes were already closed and he mumbled something before dozing off completely. He didn’t even realize, he just tried to say _I love you._

“What’d you say?” Dean was slowly being pulled into unconsciousness but tried to stay awake to listen, because whatever it was, his brain was telling him it was important. The only sound that answered him was light snoring, and Dean collapsed against the pillow and fell asleep.

The next morning, Cas sat up and felt sore in multiple places, making him instantly remember the night before. He had Dean’s nail marks on his hip and could feel the bite mark on his neck, but the worst was his _ass._ He was definitely walking funny today.

Cas looked over at Dean and touched his beautiful face. “My handsome Devil.” He whispered.

The only response Cas initially heard was a grunt. Dean’s body felt like it was on fire, a sharp contrast to how he’d felt when he went to sleep. He shifted a little and opened his eyes slowly. “Hi.”

Cas smiled and kissed his lips softly, “Hi. We need to get out of this town, baby. I’ll get the shower going.”

*************

A few hours later, they were getting out of Baby and heading into a bar in a new town. Dean was nervous, there was a restlessness in the air that only seemed to happen during a full moon, but they were down to their last $30 and were just about out of gas. They needed to hustle, they shouldn’t even have waited as long as they did. 

As they walked in, Dean’s eyes swept the small, dimly lit bar and clocked the jukebox in the corner. He ventured over there first, sliding a few coins into the outdated machine and selecting a playlist that he hoped would keep him calm. Cas went straight to the bar and ordered drinks, nothing too strong but strong enough that some of their rougher antisocial tendencies would be smoothed over. Cas left Dean’s drink on the corner of the bar where he could see it and made his way toward a couple of guys seated at a table. Dean unclenched his jaw as the beginning notes to Billy Squier’s _Lonely is the Night_ began to play, and took a seat in front of his whiskey.

One of the men was instantly interested in Cas’ company, so he made himself comfortable and started friendly conversation. He wasn’t in the mood, but he could fake it for a bit while Dean got to work. The bar was filled with mostly men so there weren’t many purses around for easy targets. Cas hoped Dean could hustle enough money to tide them over.

There was a group of people playing darts on a rusted out old board, so after Dean polished off his first drink and ordered a beer, he tapped the bar and got up. He introduced himself as Michael and learned that their names were Derek, Anthony and Rose. Dean made small talk for a moment, putting on his best flirty grin and keeping his body language open and unthreatening.

“You play darts?” Derek asked.

“Aaah, I dunno. I’m usually not very good ‘til I’m drunk.” Dean rubbed the side of his neck and gave them an embarrassed smile. “You guys are good, I don’t wanna make a fool of myself.”

Rose stepped toward him, looking up at him with grey eyes through long, curled lashes. “Baby, I don’t think you could ever embarrass yourself. If it helps, we can just play for fun. No money involved.”

He frowned, because that was the opposite of what he wanted. “Hell, if I’m gonna do it, might as well go all in, right? Whatever your normal bet is, I’m in.”

Anthony’s answering smile was predatory, and Dean knew he had him. “We’ll give you the friends and family discount, we’ll start with $20 each.”

Dean clicked his tongue. If he lost, that would drain them of basically every penny they had... and he also knew Anthony was full of shit. They were only betting $5 each before he got over there, but his bravado told Dean that Anthony was confident he’d be able to win - and confidence often led to mistakes. He pretended to mull it over and then nodded. “Fuck it, it’s only twenty bucks, right? Not like it’s gonna break the bank.”

A delicate hand landed on Dean’s bare forearm and he looked down to see Rose’s tiny form entirely too close to him. He fought the urge to move away and instead, he licked his lip slowly and inclined his head toward Derek and Anthony. “Either one of these yours?”

She shook her head, her eyes fixated on Dean’s mouth. “They’re my brothers.” Rose decided to raise the stakes and offered Dean another prize. “Kick their asses and you’ll also get a kiss from me. Maybe more.” She winked and moved aside.

Cas couldn’t hear what was being said but he could read their body language, and he instantly _hated_ this bitch. The way she was looking at Dean was as though he was some prize for her to win, but no. Dean was _his_ prize, and he did _not_ share well.

Dean admittedly wasn’t great at darts. He had excellent aim, but almost no working knowledge of how the game was even played. He noticed the others were aiming for higher numbers more often than the bullseye itself, so Dean followed suit and let Rose keep score for him. She seemed to want him to win, she would yell or spill a drink every time Derek or Anthony would throw one of their darts in an attempt to distract them. Sometimes it worked, but it mainly just pissed them off.

He was standing his ground though, between Rose’s assistance and his own dexterity he thought he had a shot to win. He’d only end up pocketing an additional $60, but walking away with $80 was a lot better than walking away with nothing.

Rose steadily got bolder, flirting with him shamelessly. Dean had no interest in her whatsoever, not even as a potential victim, but the thought of Cas going hungry _again_ because he lost all their money was motivation enough for him to flirt right back.

“C’mon, Michael! You’re soooo close!” Rose stood right next to him as he threw his final dart, but it landed just to the right of where he needed it to be to bring his score to an even 0. He swore under his breath and Derek high-fived his brother.

Anthony took his turn but his score was still much higher, so Dean wasn’t concerned. He’d have another chance soon, but Rose was getting impatient.

Cas had moved closer so he could hear the conversations and with each passing moment he became angrier. He was no longer talking or even trying to pickpocket anymore, something was stirring inside of him and he wanted to see Rose at the end of his blade. _A bloody Rose... how poetic._

Dean watched with Rose at his side as Derek took his turn, and then Dean finally had another chance to win. He looked down at Rose, “Wish me luck, sweetheart.”

Rose flattened her palm against Dean’s chest and stood on her tiptoes. “I’ve decided you’re _definitely_ going to get more than a kiss.”

Cas jumped up and walked over, a crazed look in his eyes. “Hands off what isn’t yours, _bitch.”_ He looked over at her brothers, not giving a fuck about them and actually hoping they wanted a fight.

And it would seem that they did. Derek walked over and asked, “Who the fuck are you, faggot?”

Castiel laughed coldly and pushed Derek back a step. “I’m just an angel.” 

Derek instantly punched him in the face, but Cas was only staggering for a second before he swung back and Anthony ran over to help his brother.

Dean swore under his breath as Rose screamed, drawing the attention of every single person in that bar that hadn’t already looked over because of the fight. He kicked the crux of Anthony’s knee as he ran past, knocking him to the ground. He then took advantage of the scuffle and pocketed the $80 laying out in the open and took a swing at Anthony as he got back to his feet. “Cas! Car, now!”

Cas threw one last punch and backed away, blood from the gash on his forehead dripped blood onto the floor and he grabbed his head to try to stop the bleeding, but it was too late. His DNA was in this bar. He cussed and turned to leave with Dean right behind him, he knew he was in trouble.

“What the _fuck_ was that!” Dean demanded as they got back in the car. “Jesus Christ, Castiel, we’re on the fucking _run!”_

Cas flinched away from Dean’s booming yell. “I’m sorry! But I hated seeing her touch you, she touched what’s _mine!_ How did you feel when you saw that cop touch me? You wanted to hit him too! You wanted to murder him and drain his blood. I want that too!”

“The difference is that I sat there and fucking _took_ it, Cas! I grit my fucking teeth and I let it happen because we _needed_ it to goddamn happen!” Dean’s adrenaline was coursing through his veins and making him lightheaded as he sped out of town, his eyes half glued to the rapidly sinking needle on the gas gauge.

Cas was silent for a while, because Dean was right. He royally fucked up. Dean had never yelled at him like this, he planned to _kill_ him and yet, he had never yelled at him. It hurt and Cas felt like he really let him down. “I’m sorry Dean. Fuck... I’m sorry.”

“You might’ve just killed us both, and over what, a chick?” Dean pulled over into a gas station and parked the car by a pump, sitting still for a few moments. “If I wasn’t so fucking scared about what’s gonna happen to us now… that might’ve actually been _really_ hot.” He got out of the car and went inside, paying with cash for the gas and grabbing a little bit of food for them. He came back out and pumped, his eyes darting all over the place and his nerves strung tight, expecting to hear sirens any second. They didn’t come, and he got back into the car.

A while later, Dean’s panic subsided enough that concern for Cas set in. He reached over and took his hand. “Is your head gonna be okay?”

“Yes. I deserved worse.” Cas let him take his hand but didn’t look his way.

Dean disagreed, but knew that Cas wasn't really in a state to hear that. The best thing he could do now was squeeze his hand and offer a simple olive branch. "I get why you did it, and we'll find a way around it just like we always do, okay? You're still mine, and I’m still yours."

He nodded and sighed. “I know. I just... wanted to make her bleed.” Cas admitted in a small voice. “She touched my initials... I wanted to show her that she fucked up by cutting off one finger at a time.”

“I get it,” Dean repeated. Once upon a time, he’d have actually done what Cas was thinking without hesitation... but it seemed the further Dean was pulled back into reality and faux normalcy, Cas was pushed farther from it. Like they were trading places.

They drove until Dean was forced to pull over because his eyes were closing on their own. He pulled over in the parking lot of what looked to be a homeless shelter and Dean gently shook Cas awake. “Hey, c’mon. We need beds and a shower but we can’t afford a motel right now. This is the best we’ve got.”

Cas looked a little scared. “Dean, are you sure this is a good idea?”

He wasn’t, not at all, but they still had too many hours to go before reaching his bunker in Sioux City and if he didn’t get some _actual_ rest, they’d never make it. Dean nodded and squeezed Cas’ knee. “Yeah. C’mon.” 

They went in, and thankfully, no one really seemed to be awake. The beds appeared to be full but there was a pile of blankets on a table set up near one of the walls, so they helped themselves and huddled in a corner. Dean was hardly going to count this as decent rest, but they were dry and warm... and at the moment, safe. No one ever looked to close at the homeless.

The next morning, Cas woke up first. He kissed Dean lightly, washed up and then threw on some tight light-wash jeans and a blue polo. He hated looking like this, but _this_ look got way less attention than his normal style. He felt _twinkish_ but whatever, they needed some money.

He made his way outside and walked around for a bit. He blended well in this _younger_ community so no one looked at him twice. He saw a good mark and went to sit next to him on the bench. The man was distracted on his phone while Cas _easily_ got his wallet from his jacket pocket. Castiel sat there a moment before getting up and walking off, disappearing from the area entirely.

He walked over to the college campus and leaned against a tree, looking for another distracted idiot. Turns out, there were a lot of them on campus and Cas made out with six wallets, five of which had cash, the other had two gift cards for food. _Ehh, better than nothing,_ Cas thought as he made his way back to the shelter. 

He spotted one more easy mark on the way back and almost didn’t push his luck, but went for it. Unfortunately this jacket had no wallet, but it had a sucker, so he stole that and rushed back before Dean flipped. Cas tossed the wallets in different garbage cans, kept what was useful and took the long route back to Dean, in case he was spotted or followed.

When Cas walked up, Dean was outside standing by Baby, looking tense, but Castiel had a sucker in his mouth and a cocky grin. He pulled out the wad of cash and set it on the hood of the car and Dean’s eyes widened. “Miss me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters left! The finale will be posted next Friday, are you guys ready?


	16. Chapter 16

**An Angel has Fallen  
****By:** **Celeste Middleton**

_Rumors have been circling for months about the identity of a man known to be traveling with the prolific serial killer, the Angel of Death. Officials and civilians alike have been wondering if this man was a hostage… or a willing accomplice. Due to his striking resemblance to a majority of the Angel of Death’s known victims, many believed the mysterious man was the inspiration behind the killings, while others maintained he was just another notch in the Angel of Death’s bedpost. Who is he? What does the Angel of Death want with him? At long last, at least some of these questions finally have answers._

_News broke just last week of a fight that occurred in a small town in Iowa. Derek Malcomb, 32, had called the police after being attacked by a man while playing darts. When officers arrived on scene, eye-witness accounts described two men matching the descriptions of the Angel of Death and his companion. DNA testing confirmed blood found at the scene was identical to samples found at two other confirmed Angel killings. One of the witnesses, Rose Malcomb, reported that she’d been flirting with a man who called himself Michael when they were interrupted and attacked by a deranged man who claimed that Michael was “his”. When her brother Derek tried to step in, he was attacked. One patron of the bar, who wished to remain anonymous, managed to get a video of the fight._

_State and federal police doubled down on their search for the location and identities of the two men and finally caught a break when Chuck and Becky Novak stepped forward and identified the attacker in the video as their estranged son, Castiel Novak. Novak had been a bright young man that went down what his parents described as a ‘dark path’ before forsaking his family entirely. “He was an angel,” Mrs. Novak had stated. “It broke our hearts when he left, but we never imagined he’d end up like this.”_

_The Novaks were unaware of the identity of the other man, and the police are still no closer to finding his true identity despite several past sightings being confirmed by callers from all over the country. It is believed that ‘Michael’ is an alias, possibly in reference to the archangel Michael. The method of killing and placement of the bodies already suggested religious undertones and the connections don’t seem to stop there._

_Police are now working a theory that the Angel of Death had chosen Castiel specifically as his own personal angel. Special Agent Singer explained, “We’re trying to piece together a timeline of the killer’s journey. He’s smart, he’s avoided traffic cameras almost entirely but once that video went viral, we received a multitude of tips that have allowed us to get a general idea of what’s happened so far. It seems as though the Angel killings aren’t the only ones the suspect is responsible for, as many of the tips we got matched up with cold cases all over the US. We’d have never connected them otherwise, as the M.O. seems to have changed multiple times over the course of all this. His early murders have no rhyme or reason to them but something happened to make him change his pattern. He got sloppy, started leaving DNA and other evidence behind when the religious killings started. Typically, when a killer changes their M.O. that drastically, it’s personal. We think maybe his path crossed with Castiel Novak’s and something went wrong. Maybe he’d marked him as a victim but Novak had escaped, and the killer started taking victims that resembled him as a way to rectify that in his own mind until he caught up with him again. Or, maybe Novak joined him right away and he was the reason for the switch, we’re exploring both options. Either way, it seems to be pretty clear that they’re now a team and incredibly dangerous.”_

_With this knowledge, it seems as though Becky Novak will have to accept that her estranged son is now a Fallen Angel, if he was ever an angel at all._

_Both men are still at large and the police are once again urging anyone with information to please come forward._

Dean read the article and stared at the pictures Cas’ parents must have provided with a progressively deepening scowl. “Awesome, cat’s outta the fuckin’ bag. Smartphones are the worst thing to ever happen to people like us, I swear to god.” 

Castiel was sitting about a foot away from Dean and tilted his head, “What are you talking about?” He asked, having no clue his world was about to be turned upside down.

Dean just looked at him, so Cas stood up and walked closer to see what he was reading. As he approached, he saw a photo of someone that _looked_ like... him. No, it _was_ him.

Time froze and Cas stared down at the paper as though it might burst into flames. “How...” But just as he asked, he knew. _The fight._ This was all _his_ fault. “I...” Castiel backed away slowly. “I killed us... I killed _you..._ Dean...” Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.

Dean put the newspaper down on the table and stood up, walking to Castiel and putting steadying hands on his face. “Cas. Angel. Light of my life... stoppit. Panicking isn’t gonna get us anywhere and you didn’t kill anyone, okay? We need to leave the country, and the sooner the better, but we’re not gonna die.”

“Light of your life? I’m your downfall. You should have killed me!” Cas gripped Dean’s shirt tightly. “I won’t go to prison, Dean. I’m not cut out for prison, I’d rather die.”

“Cas, no one is going to prison, okay? We’re gonna get out of the country, somewhere with no extradition.” Dean kissed his forehead. “And if it comes to it, I’ll kill you myself. I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

“You promise?” Cas asked, staring into Dean’s eyes. There was a time Cas found Dean’s eyes intimidating. Maybe because they were like jade flames, and he was just a helpless moth, or maybe it was simply the intensity behind them. Either way, from the very beginning, he saw what was behind those eyes, and he was instantly addicted. “Promise me, _you’ll_ be the one to put out my light.”

Dean smiled sadly. The thought of Cas’ light going out at all made him ache somewhere deep in his chest that he hadn’t known existed until he’d come face to face with his angel. “I promise. And if that happens, I’ll be right behind you. This world holds nothing for me if you’re not in it.” He kissed him softly.

Cas kissed him back. “I won’t live in a world without you either Dean. I’d end it so we can be together and take over hell.”

A laugh escaped Dean’s lips. “Yeah, yeah. Then I can _really_ become the devil, huh?”

Cas grinned and got up to go take a piss. When he came back, Dean had put some music on and Castiel decided to look around, pushing all the negative thoughts about the future out of his mind. So, _this_ was where his devil was when he wasn’t _hunting._ “Is this like your... bat cave?”

“If Batman was really just a psycho with voices in his head, then... yeah. Guess you could say that.” Dean licked his lips. “I honestly wasn’t here for very long the first time.”

Cas huffed a laugh and continued to explore. “Has anyone ever been here, and survived?” He asked curiously.

“Nope. At least, not since I got ahold of it.” Dean eyed the hooks and chains littering the walls and the medical table that still had blood stains on it. “Just you, now.”

Cas hummed a response but kept looking around, this was the ultimate kill bunker. “I want to kill someone here too.” He walked over to Dean’s workbench and a photo caught his eye. A photo of _him,_ that he’d never seen before. “I thought you lost this?”

Dean looked over and frowned. “Lost what?”

“This completely fucked out photo of me.” He pulled it off where it was pinned to and walked back over. “You told me you lost it, but here it is, in your murder cave.” Cas grinned and climbed onto Dean’s lap. “It’s in great condition too, it’s almost as if you had a crush on me.” He teased. Dean _always_ made him feel like he was special. 

Dean’s hands snaked around Cas’ waist and his eyes drifted to the photo. “Do you know how many people died because of that picture? How many times I tried to recreate that without you, and how many times I failed?”

That only made Castiel grin more. “Tell me about it.” He loved hearing Dean’s kill stories, especially when they were the angel killings. “Tell me about how there’s no one like me and I’m the _only_ one for you.”

“There were a couple that I thought would at least come close. They moaned like you, moved like you... looked like you.” Dean reached a hand up to brush over the hair on the side of Cas’ head. “But none of them had your fight. Your will. Your _light._ No matter what I did to you, you never lost the fire in your eyes. They all did. They died screaming, begging for their lives and for mercy.” His finger trailed down to Cas’ lip and his eyes fixed on the way the digit pulled down the lush, pink skin there. “But they were no angels, and the devil doesn’t deal in mercy.”

Cas mouthed at his thumb and sucked it as his hips moved involuntarily in a small circle. “They bled for you, but they weren’t worthy of you.” He pulled off to say, but instantly sucked it back in.

“They weren’t worthy of _you,_ either. Weren’t fit to take your place.” Dean moved his thumb, pressing down on Cas’ tongue and pulling down until his mouth was hanging open. “No one could ever take your place.”

Cas gasped slightly when Dean forced his mouth open with his strong hands. Those hands always got Cas hard in seconds.

He gazed into Dean’s eyes, his mouth still agape and reached up to run his hands through Dean’s sandy brown hair, flicking his tongue over his calloused thumb.

Dean grunted, reaching down with his other hand to wrap around Cas’ cock. They hadn’t bothered with clothes since returning to the bunker, and now Dean was grateful for it. He stroked slowly, his eyes half narrowed at his angel as he closed Cas’ mouth again and began pumping his thumb. “Gonna come for me just like this?”

Castiel nodded, of course he could. He could come from _anything_ Dean did to him. He made sure to stay still, and let Dean move his hands however he wanted, closing his eyes and releasing _all_ control to his devil.

“You look incredible, Castiel. Feel incredible too, so thick and full in my hand.” Dean spread a bit of precum over the head of Cas’ cock and stroked with a tighter fist. “So wet for me, too... are you imagining that my thumb is really my cock?” He pulled his thumb out and trailed the saliva-slicked pad over his angel’s lip and then slid it back in.

“Mmhmm.” He replied as Dean slid his thumb back inside his mouth. Cas let out a desperate moan for more, but didn’t dare ask. He would take whatever Dean would give him.

Dean’s cock was hard and neglected, so he pulled his hand from Cas’ length and lifted his angel’s hips. “I want you to sink down on my cock, but don’t move. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Dean.” Cas said, already breathless as Dean guided his hips and lowered him onto his cock. He was thankful he was still stretched out from that morning, and the night before, and… well, they’d been fucking so often Cas wasn’t sure he’d ever need fully prepped again. 

Dean moaned quietly, thrusting up until he was fully seated. “Good boy. Do you feel full, angel?” His hand returned to its previous position and stroked once as he pressed his thumb further into Cas’ mouth. “Remember not to move.”

Cas nodded quickly, “So fucking full, baby.” He moaned around Dean’s thumb, using all his willpower to stay still.

Dean kept going until Cas was a panting, heaving mess, then slid his thumb out. “Tell me what you want, angel.”

“Want to ride you until I come all over your chest.” He managed to grunt out. “Let me move.”

“Then _move,_ angel.”

Cas groaned and began to slowly slide up and down, staring into Dean’s eyes. “You feel so good.” He sat back and picked up speed, his throbbing cock bouncing on Dean’s stomach.

“God, you’re beautiful.” It was Dean’s turn to stay still, his eyes fixed on every inch of his angel’s body.

Cas tossed his head back as he rode his gorgeous devil. Dean filled him up so well he felt him against his prostate every time he slid down. “Fuck. I’m close.” He panted, digging his nails into Dean’s chest.

Dean gripped the base of Cas’ cock and squeezed, thrusting up into him. “Not yet.”

“Oh fuck!” Cas growled and leaned forward so he wasn’t stimulating his prostate anymore.

Dean released Cas quickly, building much faster than he thought now that they were actually moving. He pulled him into a kiss as he rocked up into him, pulling Cas down by the hips to bury himself deeper. His nails dug into his angel’s skin, drawing blood that Dean couldn’t see but still knew was there, and the resulting moan from Castiel had Dean coming deep inside of him.

Cas came _hard,_ just as he felt Dean’s nails digging into his hips, he could do nothing more than slump forward, panting to catch his breath. How was it possible to have so much great sex? When Dean was inside him, the rest of the world ceased to exist. Cas felt himself slipping from consciousness with his face buried inside of Dean’s neck.

“Cas, c’mon. We can nap, but we gotta move to the bed.” Dean lightly tapped Cas until he felt his angel start to move, then bore most of his weight as he led him to the bed. After some exhausted shuffling. Cas tucked himself into Dean’s side and they curled together, drifting off to sleep.

Several hours later, Dean woke up. Cas was snoring quietly, his hair messy and sticking up at odd angles and his chest was rising softly. He looked so perfect like this it was almost painful to look at. Dean smiled and closed his eyes again, letting his mind wander to all of the things they could have been if their lives had been different. If _Dean_ had been different. He lost himself in that daydream until he felt his angel stir.

Cas would have loved to stay asleep but mother nature had other plans. He rolled over with a groan, already feeling the soreness in his ass as he sat up and went to use the bathroom.

Dean met him in there as he was finishing up and told Cas he was going to get cleaned up, so Cas nodded and went back to the main room. 

While Dean showered, Cas looked around again and came across Dean’s journal. He smiled, one day, he would make the time to sit and read the whole thing. But for right now, he needed to check out this article. He picked up the paper to read what his parents said about him; he hadn’t looked at it close enough yesterday before his freak out.

He read it about four times before he set it aside, staring at the floor. They were using this for sympathy. Making Cas seem like some troubled child that lost his way. No, he was abandoned for liking _boys._ Fuck them for using his life to make them seem innocent. He suddenly wished he could show up there and scare the fuck out of them. He isn’t sure he could actually kill them, but Dean could. Cas pushed those thoughts aside, there was no time for that.

Dean was dressed by the time he came back out. “I’m gonna go on a supply run, I’ll be back.”

Cas shook his head, “No. _We_ go or none of us go. We can’t be apart, Dean. _Please.”_

“Cas, that’s stupid. I’m just going down the damn road, I’ve made the trip a dozen times.”

“I don’t care. I’m coming.” Cas pulled on his shoes quickly and followed Dean to the car. The last thing they needed was to be apart.

Dean wanted to fight him, to tell him to stay behind but Cas’ words from long ago rang in his mind, _’Bad things happen when we’re apart.’_ Dean sighed quietly but got into the car. “Fine. You’re lucky you’re cute.” He reversed the car and then got on the road.

Castiel bit back a grin, happy Dean didn’t fight him on this. He reached over and put on some Zeppelin to help Dean’s mood and grabbed his hand. “You’re kinda cute too, you know.”

He barked a laugh. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me cute before. You might be a first.”

“They just didn’t see what I see in you, Dean. You’re fucking adorable.” He grinned and started singing along to the music. Everything seemed to be working out for them and Cas couldn’t help but feel hopeful for the first time in his life.

Dean watched him for a moment and sang with him, reaching over to take his hand. They drove like that until they got to the gas station where they split up. Cas went inside for some food and Dean filled the tank up, and when they got back into the car, Dean checked his wallet. “Okay, so we've gotta go get toilet paper and more food and water, can you think of anything else we need?”

Cas thought about that for a moment. “I think those are the necessities but we also need a pie.”

He grinned widely. "I don't know how I ever survived without you, Cas." Dean knew the only place to get all of those things was a little further away than he'd have been comfortable with, but Cas' enthusiasm was contagious. He took the exit onto the highway and set the GPS for the Walmart just outside of town.

Cas hadn’t stepped foot in a Walmart in well over a year. Of course, it looked the same as all other Walmarts, but it still felt surreal to be doing something so... _mundane._

Dean kept his head down as they wandered the aisles, picking up only what they needed and staying close together. It wasn't until they were checking out and the bag boy was tucking the apple pie into a reusable bag that Dean noticed the cop near the left entrance. He tried to make it seem like a fluid movement as his eyes traveled to the exit on the other side, and he was relieved to see that it was unguarded. He put his hand protectively on Cas' back and tried to remain calm as he paid for the groceries, but the cop was speaking into his walkie-talkie and moving closer to them.

Cas didn’t see the cop right away, but he did catch the shift in Dean and it took a second for him to spot the officer Dean was avoiding. Castiel tensed when he heard words _backup_ and _suspects._ “Dean... we have to go. Fuck the pie, fuck all of this shit.”

Dean swallowed and the cashier looked at them with a frightened expression. He froze, but Cas pushed him. It was enough to get him moving, and they took off together towards the door with their groceries left behind. The cop was sprinting after them, yelling at them to stop but Dean was louder. "Keep moving, Cas. Get in the damn car, don't stop no matter what!"

All of Cas’ hopefulness was gone, completely replaced with fear. He’d never feared Dean, believe it or not. But he feared prison and even more so, being separated from Dean. Cas sprinted as if his life depended on it, because it did. If they were caught, he wouldn’t be taken alive.

Dean slid into the car and had the key turned in the ignition by the time Cas rounded the car and got in. Their doors slammed in unison and Dean risked a glance at the door. The cop had his gun drawn and fired a warning shot at Baby’s tires, but missed. That was all the warning Dean needed though, he threw his Impala in drive and stamped on the gas pedal. His heart was nearly in his throat as he pulled out of the parking lot with squealing tires. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” 

They could hear the sirens off in the distance, and Dean had to hope he’d kept up with Baby’s engine enough that she could still outrun a couple of backwoods police cruisers. He pulled onto the highway and within moments, his rear view mirror was lit up red and blue. He glanced at Cas. “Together?”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the End.

Castiel looked in the side mirror and saw at least three police vehicles behind them. All he could hope for was that there were none in front. If someone took the tires out of Baby, it was over. To be safe, Cas reached in the back and grabbed two blades, placing one in Dean’s hand and one in his own. “Together.”

Dean looked down at the blade and dropped it in his lap. "Don't give up on me just yet, Cas. Don't give up on Baby, either." Even as he said the words, he knew it was over. They'd never stop looking for them even if they managed to get away, and every single cop in the US would be looking for the Impala. They'd had a good run, he and Cas. Maybe it was time to go out on _their_ terms. "Do you trust me?"

Cas wasn’t giving up, not completely, but he wanted the option if it came to that, so all he did was nod. He couldn’t help but watch the cops in the mirror, wishing they would just disappear. He wasn’t ready for this to end, he had finally found someone in the world who cared for him, finally found... happiness. But he knew deep down, this was the end. “I trust you with my life, and my death.”

Dean pushed Baby to her limits as his chest threatened to split open and spill his insides all over the beige interior. The voices in his head had been quiet, but now they were louder than ever, trying to work out a plan to somehow kill every one of those cops while keeping Cas safe -- but it was no use. He recognized where they were, and all of his focus shifted to finding his way to the church where he'd taken Cas that first night. They were close, no more than twenty miles away, and the way there was twisty enough he was sure it would buy them time. "Then I'll do it. I promised you a long time ago that if it ever came to this, I'd be the one to put your light out." He waited until the last possible second and then hooked a right onto the exit ramp, and the cruiser that was closest to them didn't have time to make the shift and went sailing past.

Cas gripped Dean’s hand tightly. “I know. Should I wait by Hell’s gates for you?”

“You know it, angel. We’ll have the whole place to ourselves in no time, I bet between the two of us we could kill the _real_ devil.” Dean took a hard left and one of the two remaining cruisers slammed into a building, causing the last one to hit their brakes hard. It bought Dean space, and he _whooped._ “Almost home free.”

Cas sighed, could Dean save them here? When Cas said he trusted him, he meant it. He trusted Dean to fix this, no matter what that meant. If this _was_ the end, then it was one helluva ride. “There’s only one left. We could kill this one and buy some time.” If Dean was going to kill him, he didn’t want it to be rushed.

“He’s not following anymore. There’s no way he’s dumb enough to take on two serial killers by himself, he’s probably waiting for more backup.” Dean briefly considered running, but knew it wasn’t possible. They’d find them, no matter what. He took another turn and drove the rest of the way to the church, constantly making sure they weren’t followed. “We’ve got a couple hours at best, angel. They’ll search every inch of this state until they find us. Let’s make the most of it, yeah?”

When they entered the church, Cas actually smiled. “So, this is where I was always meant to die.“ He admitted, gazing into Dean’s beautiful green eyes. “Feels right that it ends here, doesn't it?”

Dean was glad it was broad daylight, he had no lantern this time- just a couple of flashlights and the go bag he’d packed ages ago. He set the bag down in front of the cross and pulled Cas into a hug, squeezing him tightly. “I want you to know I’d never do this if I thought we had a choice.”

Cas melted into Dean’s arms. In a strange way, he actually felt safe. He knew his life, or rather, his death, was in good hands. “I know. We’ll be together again soon but for now, make love to me and let me bleed for you.”

That phrase might’ve once turned Dean off... make love. But here, at the end of all things, that’s exactly what he intended to do. “One last time.” He pulled Cas to him and kissed him deeply, closing his eyes against the kaleidoscope of colors bouncing off the floor from the stained glass windows. Only one color mattered to him now.

Cas released all control to Dean. Dean’s tongue set the pace and his hands roamed freely until Dean picked him up, his legs straddling his Devil instantly. Castiel always loved how strong Dean was and his cock already began to harden.

Dean held Cas tight, walking them over between two of the windows and pressing Cas’ back against the wall. He shifted his feet to get better balance and thrust up, his cock pressing against Cas’ hole but not sliding in just yet. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, angel.”

“Right back at you, handsome devil.” Castiel rutted against Dean and bit his neck, craving more.

Dean knew he couldn’t move the way he wanted to like this, so he gripped Cas tighter and pulled back from the wall. He slowly laid them down in front of the cross, his ears peeled for sirens but hearing none. With a better angle, he slid his hand down Cas’ chest and gently squeezed his balls before slipping a finger into him. “I’m gonna take care of you, Cas. I promise.”

Cas’ head rolled and he arched his back, wanting Dean to own him. “You’ve taken such good care of me. Thank you.” His voice was almost a whisper, “Thank you, for choosing me.”

"You've been the best part of my life. I don't know who chose who, I'm just glad it happened." Dean slid a second finger into Cas and worked him open slowly, carefully, like he should've been doing the entire time. There would be enough pain in the hours to follow, they didn't need to choose it now. His lips ghosted over Cas' jaw and he marveled at the hard line of it, the way it dipped down into his throat and invited him in.

Cas moaned happily, the entire world disappearing around them. “More. Need you.” He wanted his devil inside of him, _now._

Unable to deny his angel anything in these final hours, he pulled back. In the absence of proper lube or blood, he spit-slicked his cock and Cas' hole and pressed in, sinking slowly with a quiet moan. If this was going to be the last time he ever entered Cas, or anyone for that matter, he was gonna make every second count. When he finally bottomed out, Cas' legs wrapped around him and he dropped his upper body down, kissing him gently.

Cas groaned in pleasure. “Feels so good, Dean. You’re the best sex of my life, the best everything of my life. Fuck me like it’s our last day on earth.” 

Dean didn’t know exactly what that meant, but he fucked Cas slow and deep, kissing him to swallow his moans. His pace sped up after a moment until the force of him fucking into Cas made it hard to hold the kiss, so he pulled back and lifted one of Cas’ legs.

Maybe Dean didn’t know what that meant, maybe Castiel didn’t either. But Dean was doing everything and more that Cas needed. He groaned when Dean lifted his leg and arched into him. “So good. Oh fuck!”

He wanted to take his time, but knew they were just about out of it. Dean’s hand curled around Cas’ perfect cock one last time and he twisted, pumping him quickly as his hips snapped almost violently, “Come, Cas. For me.”

Cas tried to respond but he couldn’t, there were no words for this moment. Dean was fucking him _perfectly,_ and he was hanging on my a thread. With a grunt, Castiel dug his nails into Dean’s shoulders and emptied all over his own stomach, his body twitching from the aftershocks.

Dean leaned down to kiss him as he followed, choking back a sob and thrusting weakly. It hit him all at once, this was over... _they_ were over. In just a few minutes, he was going to have to put this beautiful, wonderful, glorious bright light out and then end his own. His chest heaved and he kissed Cas’ neck. “I’m so sorry, Cas. So sorry.”

Cas hummed and he bared his neck, one last time. He knew what was about to happen, and yet, he had a small smile on his lips. “I know, I’m sorry too.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Okay.” Dean pulled himself together and slowly rose to his feet, they didn’t have time for him to fall apart. He averted his gaze from Cas as he started to set up, taking the rope from his go-bag and tossing it over each side of the cross.

Cas sat up and watched Dean. Even now, he wasn’t afraid of what was to come. This was them, _choosing_ how to leave this world. There was no other option and this was the _only_ way no one would ever be able to separate them. “Thank you for this ride, Dean. You were the highlight of my life.”

He doesn’t respond. He can’t, the words won’t come and the voices are so loud he barely heard Castiel anyway. The world was buzzing in a way that made him nauseous, and somehow, it felt fitting. He’d go out devoured by the voices that had controlled him since he was seven years old... except for those few, rare moments of peace that his angel had brought him. He finally found his voice and turned to look at Castiel. “Do you want to be clothed when they find you?”

Cas stood and approached the cross, staring at it intently with his head tilted, “I want my blue panties.” Those had always been Dean’s favorite.

“Cas, I don’t think we have them...” Dean’s heart sank. They’d left the bunker thinking they’d be coming right back, they hadn’t packed their clothes. It wasn’t even a laundry day. The thought that he might have to deny Cas his last and final wish was too much for Dean, and he desperately began searching the bag he knew was devoid of blue panties.

“That’s okay, I’ll just wear the black ones I wore here. That doesn’t matter, come back over here.” He walked over to his clothes and slid up his black satin panties and went back by the cross.

Several moments full of deep, steadying breaths later, Dean stood up and got dressed. He fished his favorite blade from his bag and stared at it, wasting more precious seconds as he tried and failed to talk himself out of what he was about to do. He was gripping it too tight, so tightly in fact that if he was trying to kill someone fighting back his form would be horrible. As it was, he knew that this time, Cas wouldn’t be fighting back. He took deliberate steps toward Cas and set the blade down gently on the ground. “Stand in front of the cross and stretch out your arms.”

Cas did as told and watched Dean, his body trembling from adrenaline and the cold eerie draft the abandoned church naturally had. He tried to show Dean he was calm, that he was ready, but his eyes darted every inch of Dean’s face, giving away his nerves.

“It’s okay, angel. Let me take care of you.” Dean worked expertly, securing Cas’ arms to the cross and binding his torso to it as well so he didn’t slump when it was over. Nothing about Castiel Novak had ever been weak or slack in life, and he wouldn’t let him be seen like that in death. He circled back in front of Cas and placed both hands on his cheeks, swiping his thumbs under his eyes. “I’ve got you, Castiel. It’s just you and me.”

Cas nodded, still trembling. “I trust you.”

Dean leaned down and kissed his initials, oddly calm. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m honored that you’re mine.” He looked into those breathtaking cerulean eyes and held steady. “Don’t be afraid, Cas. I’ll make it quick, and I won’t be far behind you.”

He took a deep shaky breath, “I’ll see you there.” Cas looked down when he felt the tip of the blade but quickly brought his eyes back up to Dean’s, those jade orbs were his only lifeline. “I’m yours, always.”

He wanted to stall, but the sirens were audible now. They were still a ways off, but growing louder by the second. “Time’s up, angel.” His heart jumped into his throat and he had to force himself to keep his eyes open. As bad as he was dreading watching Cas’ light go out, he owed it to him not to look away. _“Mine.”_ He uttered one last time before he leaned in to plant a final kiss on his angel’s lips, and drove the blade into his side.

The sudden sharp pain in his chest had Cas crying out but he didn’t want Dean to feel bad, so he used the last of his strength to hopefully bring the only man he’s ever loved some peace. “Ah!” His voice broke as he spoke, “It’s okay... shhh it’s okay...” Tears fell as he began to fade. “s’okay...” His head slumped forward, “I lo... I love you.” Castiel’s light was finally out.

Dean blinked, panic spiking through his chest when Cas’ eyes went dull. “I love you, too! Fuck!” He smacked Cas’ face and tried desperately to bring him back just long enough that he’d hear the words said back to him. The words Dean should have said a long, long time ago... and that now he’d never hear. “I love you, Cas. Fuck. Of course I love you. God _dammit!”_ He fell to his knees in front of his crucified angel and slammed his fists on the ground, his body convulsing with the realization of what he’d just done. He was crying, sobs ripping from his body so loudly that he didn’t even hear the sanctuary doors slamming open.

“Hands in the air!”

Dean didn’t move. He stayed, fully bent over with his nose to the carpet in front of Cas. “I love you. I love you.” Anger surged through him at the police officers behind him, at _all_ of the people responsible for what had just happened. _He_ didn’t kill Castiel, he’d proved long ago he wasn’t capable of such a heinous thing. _These_ people killed him, killed his angel, his _peace._ And he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to get some revenge. Hell, he was damned anyway. Dean pushed himself to his feet, letting out a guttural snarl as he pulled the blade from Cas’ chest and turned, screaming, “You took him from me!” 

He didn’t make it a single step before the first bullet hit him in the chest. It halted his progress and stunned him, but he felt no pain. Nothing could ever hurt the way losing Castiel did.

Then came the second, the third... the fourth bullets... peppering his chest the way his freckles peppered his face. He didn’t remember falling to his knees, but he was down, watching as a sea of perfect crimson flooded from his own body and onto the stained, dusty carpet. Everything was silent. Everything was cold.

Everything was black.

*******************************************************

_Dean groaned, opening his eyes slowly. He was on the ground, and as he rolled slightly, leaves crunched underneath him. It was warm, but not as warm as he’d have expected for Hell. That’s what this was, right?_

_He slid his hand under his shirt and patted his chest where the bullets had struck him, but felt nothing other than smooth skin. Trees towered above him so high that the tops were lost in the dimming light. He took a deep breath, and although the air was stale, his first impression was that death wasn’t so bad after all._

_Dean slowly sat up and looked around. It appeared to be dusk, there was still enough light that he could easily make out his surroundings but it was far from midday and he wasn’t sure the sun ever really shone in a place like this. Everything looked... dead. Which was fitting, all things considered. He rose to his feet and brushed little bits of dried leaves from his body. Silence engulfed him which made his ears prick... something wasn’t right. It was too quiet. Too calm._

_He turned in a circle, his eyes narrowed and darting through the trees. “Cas? Castiel!” His voice echoed, but he received no answer. In the absence of a better idea, Dean began walking. He found a makeshift blade at the base of an old, decaying oak tree and examined it, wondering who — or, maybe more accurately —_ **_what_ ** _fashioned a weapon like this. He kept it held up in front of him as he walked._

_A twig snapped somewhere to his right and he sprinted toward it on instinct, never one to cower in the face of danger. He’d thought maybe it was an animal of some sort, or a demon, but no. It was a person, and not the person he was looking for._

_He grabbed the man by the back of the shirt from where he was trying to hide and slammed him against a tree. A cursory glance told him he seemed human enough, and scared, too. “Where the hell am I? And where’s the angel!?”_

_The man was shaking, his eyes wide with fear. “P-purgatory.”_

_Dean barked a laugh. “Not even hell would have me, huh?” He braced his arm across the man’s throat and applied pressure, all humor dropping from his face. “Now. Where... is.... the..._ **_angel?”_**

_A shaky finger pointed to somewhere behind Dean as the man struggled to do anything but gurgle. Dean didn’t loosen his hold, but slowly turned his head to follow his finger. What he saw there fixed every single broken piece inside of him._

_“Cas?”_

_“Hello, Dean.” Castiel took a couple steps forward, a crude blade twirling in his hands._

_His beard was scruffy, much longer than the Castiel Dean knew would ever_ _have it, and much longer than it was just a few moments ago when Dean shoved a knife through his chest... that_ ** _was_** _only a moment ago, right?_

_“That’s my kill you got there.” Cas walked closer, pointing his blade at the man, his grin spreading. “I’ve been waiting for you, baby.”_

_Dean dropped his own blade and pulled Cas into a kiss. “I love you, Cas. I’m sorry I never said it.”_

_Cas instantly opened for Dean, moaning into his mouth. He still tasted like his devil. “I know, I know. I love you too.” He pointed at where his ‘kill’ had run off. “Our toy got away, ready to hunt?”_

_A wicked smirk spread across Dean’s face. “This is a whole new game, angel. Why don’t you show me what you’ve learned while I was away?”_

_Castiel bit his lip, “You’re going to fuck the shit out of me right here and now, and_ **_then_ ** _we will hunt.” He jumped into his Devil’s arms. “Maybe we were doing God’s work all along, I mean, why else would he send us to paradise?”_

_He caught Cas with a huffed laugh and a smile that wouldn’t fade. “Baby, I hate to break this to you, but we’re in Purgatory. Not paradise.”_

_Cas tilted his head. “I’ve been here for weeks, there are no rules. Only blood and death. This_ **_is_ ** _our paradise. Think about it, have you heard any voices, love?”_

_Dean’s eyes flicked between those gorgeous blue ones he feared he’d never see again, and his smile settled into something almost tender. “Nah, angel. They’re finally quiet.”_

  
  


**Afterword:**

This was, at its core, a story of two men so broken by the world that they could only find comfort in pain. 

Who were they? The answer isn’t as complicated as you might think. Dean Winchester was just a boy too young and scared to be a hero, who ultimately saw himself become the villain. And Castiel Novak, a bright young man outcast by the very people that were genetically programmed to love him simply for choosing his own path to happiness. 

A devil... and a fallen angel. 

But when they finally came together, oh! How the Heavens cried above them and Hell itself shook below them. They joined together and wreaked havoc while basking in the only light they’d ever found... each other. 

It’s almost as though when their stories were being written in the stars, some being higher than even God himself had painted two separate halves of the same whole and said… 

_“And in the darkness, bind them.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for loving this story the way that we did. I hope this finale was as satisfying for you as it was bittersweet for us, but we knew from the start that there was only one way this was going to end. But now, our boys can be together in murderous harmony for the rest of time itself, and what more could we possibly ask for?


End file.
